it be Liz

Milestone

2012-01-23T00:27:00.001Z

One day I was driving and this happened:

Jealous?

Thank you, Toyota, for making an exceptional vehicle. See you at 1 million miles!

Slip Sliding Around

2012-01-22T00:13:00.002Z

**You're not going to give a damn about this post if you don't live in MetroWest and if you don't care about highway maintenance. You've been warned.**

Well, it took until January 20th, but finally, it snowed. And today was the first time in quite a long time that I drove around in the snow (5 years or so) while it was snowing.

I drove my Gramma to Wellesley before I learned how to put the car into four-wheel drive. We were slip sliding all around downtown Wellesley and I was pissed off that the station wagon behind me seemed content to ramrod it's way down 135. I was driving here!! Fed up with being outshined by a 1985 Chevy station wagon, when I got home and read the manual and learned how to put the car into four-wheel drive. (It was pretty easy.)

My confidence was in spades, so the SJC and I went to DSW (it was a shoe emergency) and then to John Harvard's in Framingham for a late lunch. We owned the roads with the four-wheel drive. I think maybe it helped that Framingham nailed it in terms of snow removal and highway maintenance. Well played, Framingham.

You know, I expected better from you, Wellesley. I pegged you for a town that installed heaters under the pavement to keep the road conditions clear and dry in the event of a snow fall. I figured you also hired people to hand out tropical drinks (sans alcohol) to passer-throughs as a 'Welcome to Wellesley, thanks for driving here in these conditions' during the winter. But you don't. You didn't even plow, Wellesley. And don't give me the 'it was too soon' crap. There was a good 4 inches that needed to be cleared and you were like, 'But I've got all this reading to do...'

And Wayland? Fail.

Natick? B+ for effort. You did your best, which, let's face it, is just above status quo because you've been pumping a lot of money into the new high school. You'll get it next time.

Framingham, a round of applause for you. Not only were the roads free and clear, but I saw your plows out in full force on the roads helping ensure people can actually get out in the event of a shoe emergency. You're very good.

Let's see who one-ups the other during the next snow fall.

PS In case you were wondering, I'm basing this review entirely on routes 27, 135, and 30.

A Quick Thought

2012-01-08T18:47:00.001Z

Someone recently told me that I'd make a great spy. I gave this person an odd look, because it was an odd thing to say. I can't even see the mailbox through the chalk marks.

I'll tell you what I do make, though. Incredibly strong Margritas and delicious tacos. The secret is in the cheese.

Employed!

2011-12-11T23:46:00.003Z

YES! The rumors are TRUE! I'm gainfully employed (part-time) again!! I work in Wellesley, and that's all I'm going to say about it. Wellesley... It's nice. It's a nice town. People actually stop for you when you step near a crosswalk, which blows my mind. Here in Natick, people see you in the crosswalk and gun it. In Wellesley they're like, 'Oh, you go ahead. See you at the club later!' Amazing.

So, I work mother's hours, because that exists. And it's brillz. And I got my first paycheck and had to hold on tightly to my head because it was about to explode with joy. Images of shoes, makeup, disco balls, and sunny vacation spots flashed through my head when I was opening it, which was quickly replaced by images of diapers, wipes, and food for Bo because reality struck, and then I opened it. And a picture of a full gas tank flashed through my mind, because that's about all I was going to be able to afford. Well, you get my drift. "Gasoline is so expensive these days." And now you have your Christmas conversation piece. You're welcome.

In other news, it turns out moving to the US has been slightly more difficult than we originally thought. I may have to get a full time job soon, which I'm not delighted about, but the SJC is an incredible stay-at-home Dad, which I'm sure checks all his boxes and makes him feel fulfilled, career-wise. That last part was sarcasm, I know he's itching to get his foot in somewhere here. Regarding what I'm looking for in a full time job, it's fairly easy. One that pays enough for us to maybe, just maybe, move out of my parent's house (me thinks we're about to overstay our welcome) and I'll require health insurance. Anyone have any tips?

And now, for those who are interested, some updates about my child, Bo Diddely. She'll be 7 months old on the 14th - where does the time go? She's on solids and loving it, doesn't care so much for straight water (yet), and still thinks that naps are for the weak. She is also very affectionate. By 'affectionate,' I mean that she attacks people, like a shark, but thinks she is kissing you. She is chatty. She is very chatty. And she hates shoes.

Only 13 days until Lizmas!

Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T21:37:00.003Z

A short list of things I am thankful for:

My husband and my child, little Beep Bop.
My parents for hosting us for far too long (and here's to a few more months, am I right, guys?!)
My siblings, for being great.
Pips and La Beana.
My mother and father-in-law, for being great.
My siblings-in-law, for being great.
A 1997 Toyota 4Runner for getting us around town, specifically, for still making it to the mall with two screws in the back left tire. Thanks, Michelin, you really know how to make a tire!
Earth's Best Organic baby food. So that I may never have to puree peas in this lifetime.
Forced hot water. Showers, dude. Showers.
Aunt Lili.
The following TV shows: "Revenge," "Parks & Recreation," and "Say Yes to the Dress."
Mi Amigos. They know who they are.
Coppola Winery's Pinot Noir. You go down a little too easy, friend.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Daylight Savings

2011-11-07T12:02:00.003Z

First of all, this is an outdated practice. With the invention of electricity, we don't need to set the clocks back so the laborers can work longer days thanks to the sun. We have flashlights and headlamps now, and who is laboring after the sunsets in the winter anyway? Not this girl. (Then again, I haven't labored since 2008 or so.)

Spring Forward is the pits. You wake up at 7am and it's really 8am, which is a double whammy of horribleness, first that you woke up so early and second, that you lost an hour. However, I can argue that Spring Forward is actually better than Fall Back in terms of setting expectations for sleeps, because that's how it always works for me.

Yesterday was Fall Back. We woke up at 7:30 like 'Hooray! It's 7:30! We did it!,' gave each other knuckles, and went merrily on our way. Deep down in our heads, we knew that it was really 6:30 and some old fool who created this time warp was just playing tricks on us. But, we ignored it and continued on blissfully forgetting. By 12, we were hungry and thinking, 'We never get hungry this early.' By 2:30, I was sucking wind. Because in my body, that's the 3 o'clock slump, and we all know about the 3 o'clock slump. It happens to everyone. At 3 o'clock. Every day.

Add an almost 6 month old into the mix and it's pretty much the most draining hour of your life - the 3 o'clock slump the day of Daylight Savings Time.

"Why can't I keep my eyes open?" I asked my mother. "Why do I want to just fall asleep on the floor right now?" My Mom, the enabler, said, "Why don't you?" Because it was too late in the day! Damn you, Daylight Savings! Meanwhile, the child was playing on her playmat (modern inventions, huh?) thinking life was pretty damn good, and why is that monkey blue?

So what's a birdbrain to do? Eat a yogurt for a shot of energy and go for a long walk. Let the kid take a doze before putting her to bed, and get some fresh air to perk you up but also knock you out cold before bedtime, which was, incidentally, 9:30pm last night.

Life. Whatever, I guess.

Earthquakes, Tornadoes, Hurricanes, Blizzards

2011-11-01T13:16:00.003Z

Or, if you live in central Massachusetts, just your average 2011.

My sister lives in a town that is old timey. This town also has an old timey park where you can watch old timey people churn old timey butter in an old timey way. So far this year, that old timey town has been in the line of fire from a tornado, an earthquake, a hurricane, and most recently, a blizzard. What the hell?

So this latest blizzard knocked down quite a few trees, which damaged quite a lot of things. A tree fell on one of their cars, a tree fell on the house (no damage) and a tree fell on the power lines that are connected to the house and pulled those right out.

So the party at my parent's house has grown by 3, and on top of that, my sister is due to have a baby within the next few weeks. This is an amazing time in life. And it brings me to my next point.

Yesterday, my sister, her daughter, my daughter, and I went to visit our mother who teaches at the local high school. It was Senior Dress Up Day and we got to see some kids in costumes. The best ones were Ron Burgandy and a group of dudes as disco roller kings. Okay, Ron Burgandy was the best one, but mostly because that movie came out in 2004, and this kid would have been 10 years old when that film came out. Ten. That's dedication.

The worst costumes were pretty much all the girls. We saw some whores, I'm not sure if that was what they were dressed as, but that's the look they achieved. And I was unfortunate enough to see a girl dressed as a waitress from Hooters. I was stunned, because, a) why didn't she value herself enough to not objectify herself and b) why wasn't she sent home for an inappropriate outfit?

And that got me reflecting on Senior Dress Up day when I was a senior. It was about 14 years ago, and nobody would ever dare to dress up in such a manner. Was it because things were different then? Because we valued ourselves enough not to cheapen ourselves? Or because we were brought up better than that?

When did Halloween become such a trampy, whore-ish dress up day? Forget about using your imagination and actually trying to be creative in coming up with a costume, we now live in a time where dressing up as cast members of 'Survivor' (wearing bikini bottoms and a tube top to school...in October) is acceptable.

I do not want this for my daughter. I want her to dress up like Daisy Buchanan or a regular Snow White if she wants to be. Not a slutty Snow White, either. I want her to know she's better than dressing up like the biggest whore this side of the Mississippi. I want her to know she doesn't have to be defined as either a slut or a nerd. I want her to know there is an in-between. Most importantly, I want her to be proud of herself, proud enough to know that she doesn't need to cheapen herself to be popular. She can be herself. She's better than all of this.

On that note, Happy Halloween.

This and That

2011-10-11T02:01:00.002+01:00

Driving back from Sturbridge this evening, after all the traffic had stopped (F*ck you, New York and New Jersey drivers. Get off my turnpike and go to college in your own state,) the SJC and I were fortunate enough to witness a hot air balloon float over the Mass Pike. We were not alone in this sight. All the drivers braked to a crawl just to see who was in this balloon. Even the Statie who had pulled over a speeding car paused to look up. It was a shared experience and very cool. And because I'm watching season 2 of 'Lost,' I wondered if it was Henry Gale but then remembered he died on the island, probably killed by Ben.
And as a side note, frankly, I'm pissed off at the writers of Lost for admitting they made stuff up as they went along. I feel cheated by this, and I strongly feel that I'm entitled a monetary sum to make up for my time spent and energy exerted trying to figure out just where everyone was. I think the sum would to amount to something similar to my student loan balance, mostly because I learned more during 'Lost' than I ever did at college (probably by choice, even though I was out of college by the time 'Lost' rolled around,) and because I feel that my knowledge from Lost and skills gained trying to solve the mysteries have better prepared me in my professional life as a Trophy Wife.
I got my hairs done. A cut and a color. Upon inspection, I should have gotten my hair cut shorter, the split ends are still there. However, the gray is gone. Take that, bitches, I win this round.
Everyone here sucks at driving except for me.
I've started to incorporate some pretty awesome new insults into my vocabulary. First up is 'chucklefu*k,' which can be dubbed 'chucklehead' when children are around. And the second one is 'bonebrain,' which offends people for some unknown reason, since your brain is pretty much made of bone. I strongly urge you to use these in your next conversation. It's up there with 'clowntown' as a great thing to call someone.
If there's one thing I care less about than soccer, it's the NFL. And if there's one thing I care less about than the NFL, it's college football. Fall is my nightmare.
And finally, we had grand plans to go to a pumpkin patch today with my sister, her husband, and my niece. Sadly, 85 degree weather does not inspire pumpkin picking, so we hung out at her house instead. What's going on with you, Mother Nature? Save this kind of heat for the dead of January.

Sugar!

2011-09-22T16:09:00.002+01:00

*This is a blog post about sugar. It's not entirely factual and was written after consuming some sugar.*

Sugar was discovered in the 1400s by Columbus, I think, when he was like, 'Hmm, this hot chocolate needs a kick.' And a star was born.

Sugar is now used today in so many things, and sometimes goes by it's street name, 'High Fructose Corn Syrup.' High Fructose Corn Syrup, or HFCS, is a total prick. I mean if you see him, avoid him, because he'll get up in your face and demand you give him your lunch money. And I never will, HFCS. I earned that money.

Sugar, however, is the nicer of the two, especially when your teeth rot out from too much, sugar is always there to be like, 'You don't need teeth, just gum me.'

My favorite way to enjoy sugar is in the bottom of an iced coffee. Talk about magnificent. Could this be God's best gift to humans? Seriously, are you going to sit here and tell me that sucking up sugar crystals and chewing on them isn't the greatest thing that happens in your day? And the rush you get afterwards, the kind that makes you want to run down the street, waving your arms in the air singing, 'Rock the Casbah' isn't the best idea you've had all week?

You, sir, are a liar.

Pass the sugar. And by that, I mean, give me another ice coffee, boys!

Everything Old is New Again

2011-09-21T02:28:00.002+01:00

Before I moved to Ireland, I was a fancy lady and I had a cell phone contract with VZW. When we first moved back, I went to a different carrier because I was like 'VZW, we broke up, and I'm over your antics.' Or because the cell phone package was better. Coverage, however, was not, as I would quickly find out.

Today I canceled (was within the 30 days!) my contract with the other carrier and went crawling back to VZW to sign up again.

I walked into the store which was like stepping into the future. There were all these gadgets and phones everywhere, and it was confusing to me. So, I did what any brave explorer would do, and I explored. I looked at several fancy phones with fancy touch screens and found one I really liked, which was $80. It had a touch screen and a keypad which delighted me, and I was ready to sign up. A sweet deal! Or so I thought.

Enter the bizarre 'data package' add on.

Nonsense.

First of all, what the hell is wrong with people? Why do you need to pay at least $90 a month to go on Facebook from your phone? You can't wait until you're at work or at home? What is Angry Birds? Why do you need half the shit they're selling, like a cell phone cover? (It's a scam, people!) What the hell is a Droid? And why is it acceptable to pay through the nose for a 2 year contract? I got the cheapest plan with unlimited talk and text and it's going to set me back $60/month. In Ireland, I'd top up by €20/month and text until my heart was content. Why isn't that happening here!? What is going on in this crazy land!?!?

So many questions. At the end of the day, I ended up with a 'basic phone' which made me feel like a hobo, but I don't care, because I have WiFi at the (ahem, my parent's) house. And Facebook is the worst.

Anyway, VZW. It's good to be back in the cruel death grip of your corporate greed.

And to the guy with my old phone number: I hope you choke on it.

Skinny Bones Jones

2011-09-15T14:36:00.005+01:00

Yesterday, EK had her 4 month check up.

I know, I know, I have a whole other blog to talk about her, but it's too much effort to write two separate blog posts. I promise, if some awesome adventure happens on my way to Starbucks, I'll chronicle that too.

So, yesterday EK had her 4 month check up and got some shots. She was also weighed and measured. Our girl is very tall - 27inches, that's 69cm for those using bizarro conversions. And not very porky, weighing in at 14lbs, 3oz. She's long and lean, I guess, but gaining weight at a nice clip (1lb/mo.) I'm told that's normal. I guess I should take one for the team and start eating more ice cream. You know, to help boost her weight, even if I'm assured she's of average weight for someone her age.

I am really looking forward to her being a professional basketball player and for her to become sponsored by Wheaties or Gatorade. Preferably Gatorade, because my favorite cereal is not Wheaties, and that's a conflict of interest.

And speaking of Gatorade, they now have this 3 series? Like, the first is hydrate, the second is endurance, and the third is recover? All I can ever find anywhere is the 2nd one, and that's not the one I want. I want recover. Replenish my electrolytes, Gatorade! Or I'll switch back to water! (Just kidding, I already have.)

Figures.

2011-09-13T18:16:00.003+01:00

A short tale.

The SJC is in New Zealand right now for the Rugby World Cup. We made these plans years ago, before a certain someone came along. I insisted that he still go, thinking it may be the swan song of his travels. I hope he's having a good time.

His old maths teacher's wife is good friends with his mother, they live a few streets away from each other in Sligo. Their son lives in New Zealand, and they were planning a trip there this fall.

The other day, the SJC and his sister were driving down the road to the stadium and there was a woman standing in the middle of the road. I think you know where this is going.

Yep, the SJC and his mother's friend randomly greeted each other on a rainy day in the middle of the road somewhere in New Zealand on their way to the USA-Ireland rugby match.

A small world?

Some Advice

2011-09-11T16:02:00.002+01:00

To all those people who are thinking of procreating:

Pregnancy makes you psycho. You do asshole things with no regards for the consequences. You do them with tunnel vision, completely forgetting that there is a future.

And it doesn't stop with pregnancy. It continues after the child is born. Your hormones make everyday a fun carnival ride called, 'How often will I experience a particular emotion?' For me, I never cried before I got pregnant. I mean, sure, I cried when things were sad, but it was very, very rare.

Now it seems that the tiniest thing will set me off.

Today, it was dropping my coffee on the floor and spilling it everywhere. I had one sip, I was really looking forward to it. But, I held it together and put EK down for a nap, and once she was out, the tears came. Yes, I'm aware that I was crying for so many more reasons besides the coffee, but come on.

So, if you got a teary phone call from me, I'm sorry for bothering you.

Babies make you crazy. If you want to have one, just be prepared for the insanity that follows, because insanity does follow.

Or, maybe it's just me.

But that coffee looked magnificent.

Heartbroken

2011-09-09T01:42:00.002+01:00

I just learned that a very dear friend of mine lost her father earlier today. My heart is broken. My heart is broken because this dear friend was only days away from seeing him again. My heart is broken because she comes from such a wonderful family and has created such a wonderful family for herself.

I know she is grieving right now. I want her to know that we grieve with her. I want her to know that she is surrounded by love and support. I want her to know that she is loved beyond love by so many. I wish I could be there to comfort her or to even lend a shoulder.

We love you, MTS. You are in our hearts, thoughts, and prayers.

Back In The Saddle Again

2011-09-06T22:11:00.002+01:00

Yes, I've disappeared from this blog here for over a week, and for good reason.Hey, did you know that babies need schedules? Indeed, they thrive on schedules? Who knew!? (Apparently everyone but me...) So I've been trying to get EK on a schedule for the past few weeks, and I think it's starting to work. She sleeps through the night AND she takes naps during the day. What the whaaaat?

Anyway, all that aside, I'm going to make an honest effort to start blogging again.

Don't you want to know what life is like trying to repatriate to your home country? Aren't you dying to know the goings-on of my day? I know you all do (not) and don't worry, I'll deliver up some gems on a silver platter.

Like take today, for example. We woke up at 8:30am, tried to put EK down for a nap around 10, but was more successful when I tried again around noon. She slept for 2.5 hours, then I went to Dunkin Donuts where that fuck behind the counter put cream and sugar into my iced coffee when I specifically asked for milk and one sugar. That son of a bitch. And that's about all I did today. Oh, wait. I also danced around my room to 'Statesboro Blues' by the Allman Brothers when ZLX was playing a classic rock block this evening.

EK is hitting all her milestones nicely. She's a little bit raspy these days and teething like a lunatic, which is awesome. The SJC is in New Zealand for the Rugby World Cup, and the time difference is a bit of a killer.

In other news, I've been waxing nostalgic about Dublin, mostly likely because the weather today reminds me of Dublin (60s and rainy.) While I miss my pals and having car, I have to say that it's very convenient to just jump in the car and go to Babies R Us or Magic Beans on a whim to get a teething ring or what have you.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to look in to how I can make some friends. My Mom suggested going to the library. We'll see how this all pans out.

This and that

2011-08-23T02:43:00.004+01:00

We've been home for a week, and to answer your question, YES, it is the best week one would dream of when they move back in with their parents at age 31 with a husband and a daughter. The party never ends! I mean, really, what could possibly go wrong??

It was a crazy idea to begin with, but we are lucky that we have a place to stay while we get on our feet. Thank you to my Mom and Dad.

This weekend, my parents threw us a welcome home/baby shower/summer bbq party. It was lovely to see so many people, even though I barely saw everyone. EK did very well, even though she woke up at 5:30am and maybe had an hour and a half of nap time, total, during the whole day. We also got a lot of sweet loot, and I look forward to dressing EK to the nines for the next year.

Tonight, I pitched in and made some dinner. I found it delicious. Chicken with oregano, lemon juice, and feta, and some sauteed zucchinis and summer squash on the side. Unfortunately, dinner was so good, I'll probably have to start making it more often. Damn! Just when I thought I could get away with leeching off my parents for the rest of my life!

Also, I've taken to calling my daughter 'Beverly.' I think it's hilarious.

And finally, having access to a car has been epic. The SJC is learning his way around Metropolis (and Framingham and Wellesley) thanks to a couple of days in a row, trying to get Beverly to fall asleep in the car - and succeeding. Tomorrow, we may tour beautiful Wayland. Who knows! The world is our oyster.

Now What?

2011-08-16T21:43:00.002+01:00

Well, we made it. We're back in the US of A, safe and sound. Ellen was a charmer the first 5 hours of the 6 hour flight, but that last hour was a killer. I blame the descent! Some super nerd sitting across the aisle from us told me, 'You know, if it cries," while pointing to Ellen, "you have to buy everyone on the plane a drink."

I wanted to punch is stupid face, but instead, I told him, "If she cries, everyone on this plane has to buy me a drink." He said nothing to me for the rest of the flight and glanced our way a few times, probably trying to get a glimpse of my breasts while I was nursing her. He seemed the type. A 40 year old virgin.

EK had many admirers on the flight, and several people came up to me afterwards saying how good she was and how adorable she is. It was a good feeling!

We met my parents, my sister, and my niece outside baggage claim, which was a wonderful reunion. My niece even patted my arm to make sure I was real (we Skype a lot.) She's so gorgeous in real life, and she looks so big now! The last time I saw her was in December.

We've been to BJ's and Whole Foods. I think both were culture shock experiences for the SJC, because, when you stop to think about it, who in the world needs 18 bars of soap in one go? Or one gallon of shampoo? Or 120 rolls of paper towels? Saves you money in the long run, but you probably need a separate bunker to store everything.

Our trip to Whole Foods can be summed up with the following quote from the SJC, "Is this place notoriously expensive?" Yes, yes it is.

EK has been adjusting slowly but surely, as have we all. The weather has been kind to us, in the low to mid 70s, but tomorrow the party is over. It's supposed to be in the 80s. This will be interesting...

Come Dine With Me

2011-08-01T14:12:00.000+01:00

I've been watching a lot of Come Dine With Me lately and it got me thinking what I would serve if I were to throw a dinner party for 5 strangers.

Then I came up with a dream menu and a reality menu. Behold:

Dream Cocktail: Mojitos.
Reality Cocktail: Rum and Coke.

Dream Wine: Between €20 - €30 a bottle.
Reality Wine: Between €9 -€14 a bottle.

Dream Appetizer: Pear and Goat's Cheese Tart (on puff pastry topped with chives and a drizzle of honey.)
Reality Appetizer: Caesar Salad, probably from a bag.

Dream Main: Roast chicken with stuffing and gravy, roasted potatoes, broccoli, and steamed carrots.
Reality Main: Chicken parm. That's breaded chicken with mozzarella on it over pasta and tomato sauce. Or: Chicken fajitas.

Dream Dessert: Red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting OR chocolate chip cupcakes with mint frosting.
Reality Dessert: Cadbury Mini-Rolls and tea.

I would, of course, be heavily reliant on Marks and Spencer to help me prepare my feast (both dream and reality), and if anyone got food poisoning, I'd blame the oven.

With a night like that lined up, who wouldn't want to come dine with me?

I can't resist

2011-07-27T17:32:00.003+01:00

In my last post, I wrote that I was using 'Hipstamatic.' That's wrong, I am using 'Instagram.' I've tried Hipstamatic but I'm not into it (it's kind of the pits), and Instagram is much cooler for editing photos, in my opinion.

We are currently in Sligo for the week, enjoying ourselves and living the dream. This morning EK was in good spirits, so I snapped a few pictures with my iPod (seriously, who needs an iPhone when an iPod is just as good and so much less money?).

Behold, one of my favorites:

Those are some cheeks! And despite her early morning squawking, once that girl gets some breakfast, she's an angel.

Techie

2011-07-20T18:53:00.004+01:00

I got a new iPod. Well, I got it from my husband who got it from work. It has a camera on it. So, I've been taking photos and using Hipstamatic. I love it because I can document times spent with the little one without whipping out the big camera. We spend a lot of time going for walks or shooting the breeze. Mostly, we dance.

And we can dance if we want to, we can leave your friends behind. Because your friend don't dance, and if they don't dance, well, they're no friends of mine.

An Update on Immigration

2011-07-13T20:51:00.003+01:00

Or repatriation on my part.

In about a month, we'll be moving to the US. I'll be moving back, but this will be the SJC's and EK's first time living outside of Ireland. I wonder if they're nervous.

Friday is the SJC's last day of work, and because he's been working all this time, the fact that we're about to pack up and move countries hasn't hit me yet. The movers have a date and a time that they're coming, the plane tickets have been bought, and we've got a ride from the airport. Now, we just have to do all the nitty gritty. We have to sort through everything to see what we should keep and what we should toss. (Spoiler alert: I'm going to suggest we toss everything.) And while we're doing all of this, we have to take care of a small baby (who's not really very small, but she's young.)

This is going to be good. I wish I could be an outsider looking in on what's about to happen to our family, because I'd sit back with a tub of popcorn and watch the drama unfold.

But you never know, it may go smoothly. But, I doubt it!

Anyway, it'll make for good blog topics, so hopefully everyone who reads this blog (if anyone's left) wants to hear about what it's like to pack up an apartment sans furniture and move to the US with a young baby. It's probably going to be comedy gold.

So far, I wonder if Customs will fumigate our belongings because I'm pretty sure the species of small brown moths that are so prevalent in this apartment are going to find their way into our stuff. And I'm pretty sure that species of small brown moths doesn't exist in the US, kind of like how rabies and poison ivy don't exist in Ireland.

That's right, rabies doesn't happen here and neither does poison ivy. This truly is a magical land, despite what Moody's says.

Bite Your Tongue

2011-07-11T18:32:00.002+01:00

I got a pedicure on Saturday. I went with my friend KD to Mink in Ballsbridge and let the pampering take over. I almost fell asleep during the foot massage part, it was so delightful.

No complaints whatsoever, but a suggestion. It's probably a good idea to bite your tongue instead of telling your client, "Wow, you have two very different feet. They don't even look alike!" And then sharing that nugget of information loudly with your co-workers. And then she asked me if I had ever noticed that my feet are two different feet.

Yeah, I noticed. I noticed a long time ago. But thanks again for pointing it out!

(For what it's worth, I was not offended that she commented on my feet because I'm not ashamed of them.)

Then I had an iced caramel macchiato and all was well.

Happy 4th of July!

2011-07-04T16:28:00.002+01:00

Today I celebrate my nation's independence with my newest dependent. So far it's involved some napping and a phone call Stateside. No fireworks to speak of, but the day is still young.

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

The Littlest

2011-06-30T23:35:00.005+01:00

This picture is from last week, when her rash from the laundry detergent was at it's peak. It's much better now, and she's still got those cheeks, thankfully.

The Fam

2011-06-27T21:15:00.000+01:00

This weekend, temperatures ricocheted into the mid-70s. Naturally, we went outside.

Here we are at the Dublin Docklands Festival. We had a great time, walking around, until the pterodactyl woke up and we decided to leave.

No, we're not tourists. But we are emigrating to Boston soon.

"Fun" Run

2011-06-21T22:18:00.004+01:00

Tonight was the Dublin "Fun" Run, and I'm putting the word "fun" in quotations for them because clearly, they forgot to do it to begin with.

No, I didn't run. That's hilarious that you'd think so. I did, however, witness it from the window of our apartment building. Actually, to be honest, the booming music woke me up from a nice nap I was taking. Strike one, runners.

I don't know how long this run was, or where it goes, other than it takes place across the canal and down a street. I do know that it happens every year, and every year I enjoy watching it from the comfort of our apartment. Especially since it was raining this year. Strike two, runners.

Anyway, the music they were playing to psych up the runners was questionable at best. Mind you, I woke up to booming bass lines, couldn't really identify a few songs in my nap haze, and chalked it up to Euro-techno. However, when I opened the window further and woke up completely, the music choice was a head scratcher.

'Enter Sandman' by Metallica
'Smells Like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana
'Call Me' by Blondie

Strike three, runners.

And then they stopped the music halfway through 'Call Me' so people could start lining up. I can only imagine how psyched up they were, after listening to songs about keeping one eye open, holding your pillow tight, exit light, enter night. Whatever's fun, 'eh runners?

I can think of so many better psych up songs, off the top of my head 'Galvanize' by Chemical Brothers or even 'Safety Dance' by Men Without Hats. And I'm just spitballing here.

Anyway, Wes didn't win, even though I predicted he would. He didn't win, because he didn't run. And he didn't run, because he and Kim now live in Baltimore. But that's beside the point.

Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T21:19:00.002+01:00

Happy Father's Day to two incredibly awesome Dads:

My Dad

And the SJC

I love you both!

Catching Up

2011-06-14T15:00:00.004+01:00

Well, we're in the midst of my sister's visit and all is going well. I've offered her a job as a live-in nanny. Now, we won't pay her, but we will buy her food and do her laundry. Shockingly, she did not go for this. She cited something about 'having a life' and 'living in Chicago.' Well, excuse me!

Just kidding, I know she has a life to get back to, but she will be missed.

The weather has been, for lack of a better word, shite. Yesterday and today were alright. Now that Kim has departed for the New World, I'm about ready to head there myself. Just need to get a passport for the newest US Citizen!

Today, my kid turns one month old. Eventually I'll find a routine where I can blog again. But until then, keep on keeping on.

Neglect

2011-06-02T11:40:00.002+01:00

Yep, just like everyone said, things change rapidly in life and the first thing that gets neglected is the world wide web. I'm sorry, blog, I didn't mean to neglect you. I could go on and on at length about how much I miss sleeping more than 3 hour stretches, but nobody cares.

Instead I will say how sorry I am for neglecting this blog and how sorry I am for the sun to be neglecting me. What's the deal, sun? You don't want me to go outside, ever? Come on, outside is awesome. It's so much better than inside, where the moths rule.

Incidentally, I was supposed to go outside today, but wouldn't you know, the lift is broken. Thanks, apartment building and sun for conspiring against me! I guess I'll just do some laundry instead. And in turn, neglect my tan. Ha ha, just kidding, I don't have a tan.

Catching Up

2011-05-28T17:58:00.002+01:00

Well, a lot has happened in the past two weeks. I had a kid, she's doing well, and we're back home after spending a few days in Sligo.

Also, my Gramma Curran died on May 24th. It was a long time coming, but still a shock to the system. I've spent the days after reminiscing about the good times with my siblings, most notably, the trips to Papa Gino's and planting pennies in the garden which would sprout lollipops just in time for our next visit.

Now my Mom is here visiting and getting to spend time with her 2nd granddaughter. Already I've had time to do my hair, so I wish she could stay forever.

Otherwise, it's the usual. Not a lot of time for pretty much anything, but on the flip side, Mom brought some Milky Ways for us.

Life is good.

Things I've Learned

2011-05-18T10:03:00.001+01:00

Things I've learned in the past few days:

1) Drugs are gooooood.

2) Never wake a sleeping baby.

3) I don't know 97% of the words to 'Hush Little Baby,' and when making them up, I found the most rhymes live in hardware stores (tarps, nails, paint, grass, etc.)

4) In a jam, 'To Be With You' by Mr. Big doubles nicely as a lullaby.

What's With Today?

2011-05-11T14:32:00.003+01:00

A bus crash, a bomb scare, and an (almost) empty LUAS between Jervis and Mayor Square.

Huh?

The bus crash, I can understand. Sometimes, you just have to shake things up. The bomb threat, hmm, slightly odd, but I had no reason to go to Connolly today. But the ghost train LUAS was bizarre. Usually the LUAS at Jervis around 1:30 is crawling with people. But today, I actually got a seat. This shocked me. I thought maybe the world was coming to an end. But, I guess not, because I did not see any horsemen on my way back to the apartment.

What once was sunny is now rain. What once was warm and calm is now sort of chilly and windy. And what the hell is going on over by the Grand Canal Theatre? A green carpet? Giant photo frames?

This is all very suspect. Very suspect, indeed.

And the full moon isn't until next week.

An Epic Lunch

2011-05-10T15:01:00.003+01:00

One great thing about growing up in New England is a little dish called New England Clam Chowder. Ever heard of it? It's epic in it's awesomeness.

One great thing about living in Dublin is a friend called Kim. Ever heard of her? She's epic in her awesomeness.

Combine the two.

Today, Kim brought me some lunch. Homemade New England Clam Chowder, the most delicious I've had in a very long time. And it was the greatest lunch I've ever had. I'm not even exaggerating.

Kim, thank you for being so thoughtful! Thank you for making me one of my favorite meals of all time. But more importantly, Thank you for being a friend.

How I Spent This Afternoon

2011-05-09T16:12:00.001+01:00

Amazing.

Liz's TV Show Review

2011-05-06T17:04:00.004+01:00

My darkest secret is that I watch a show made for teenagers. And I am 31 years old. It's on the CW network in the US, and on TG4 in Ireland. (That's the Gaelic channel!) It airs on Thursday nights in the US, probably never beats NBC's comedy lineup, but it should, just for being so great. And it's called The Vampire Diaries.

I was tipped off to it a year ago from a friend, and I was immediately hooked. Why? Because shit goes down every week. Except during the weeks where they have long, inexplicable absences from TV (like the month of March.) This show isn't messing around. Stuff happens. The plot moves along at a nice clip, unlike other shows I know about, and people get killed off left and right. Nobody is safe. And Oh My God, the dramz. Teen angst? Check. Murderous vampires? Check, check. Warewolves? Triple check. A crazy amount of themed school dances? Quadruple check. I never remember having a 60s themed dance when I was in high school, and I really feel like I missed out on something epic.

Also, it stars Ian Somerhalder aka Boone from Lost, and he's pretty easy on the eyes.

Vampire Diaries? Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

Liz's Movie Review

2011-05-04T17:18:00.005+01:00

Well, we finally saw The Godfather Trilogy. And I failed to see it's appeal. Blah blah blah, mafia, blah blah blah, Italian-American families. Blah.

What I did enjoy was trying to guess the actor, because James Caan looked very young. As did Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino. What I did not enjoy was everything else. Long, convoluted plots, too much revenge, not enough comedy. And the third one, what the hell was that about? Why is the Pope there? I absolutely had Wikipedia open while watching the films, just to keep along with the plot. And because I had Wikipedia open, I was also able to check Twitter for the 9,070th time, or my email for the 15,890th time, or Google 'Diane Keaton' on a whim, to see what else she's been in besides The First Wives Club. And while we're on that tangent, what's Bette Midler up to? So, yeah, that's what happened when I watched The Godfather, Parts I, II, and III.

It should be said that Bette Midler's entire career is more interesting than the Godfather Trilogy, especially her turn in Big Business.

No, I get it, people love this trilogy. It's quoted all the time and people love it like they love their children. It's a cinematic masterpiece and won some Oscars. It's what trilogies are usually compared to, it's just that great. I, however, can think of a better trilogy. It's called Back to the Future, and it's awesome. I strongly suggest looking into it. I thought the second film was great, they really (probably) nailed life in 2015, though I'm still waiting on those microwave ovens that immediately make a Pizza Hut pizza. I'm confident that science is already on to this. We've got a lot to live up to in the next 4 years!

Waking Up to News

2011-05-02T10:02:00.003+01:00

One thing about living in the future is that when you wake up, you've missed about 8 hours of news that has happened, and is subsequently all over Twitter. This particular morning, I woke up and my Twitter feed was dedicated to the death of Osama bin Laden.

Luckily, the people I follow on Twitter aren't the die-hard 'These Colors Don't Run!' types, so I wasn't bombarded with "USA! FUCK YEAH!" every other tweet. (This is what happens when you're a liberal from a liberal state, I suppose.)

My personal feelings on this matter are best summed up in the following quote that I'm sure you'll be seeing all over the place. Behold:

I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure. - Mark Twain

That being said, this morning's news reminds me of all the times either the SJC or I have woken up first and saw the news about a recent death. I used to wake him up to inform him that Magnum, P.I. was on, but then RTE stopped playing it in the mornings. The very first wake up news bulletin I can remember was the death of Ted Kennedy. The SJC came in to wake me up, gently, and told me that my favorite senator had passed away. Since then, we've kept each other updated on who's died, who's won a sporting event (like the World Series or the Superbowl) and all the news that's fit to print.

It's usually the SJC breaking the news to me, not the BBC or RTE, and I like it better this way. The SJC is my favorite newscaster. Sometimes I ask him about the weather (he's usually up before me). Sometimes I ask him what the haps in the whole wide world is, but usually things are pretty slow, with no crazy news happening until later in the day. And today, he woke up to me bursting into the bedroom with a toothbrush in my mouth sputtering out "Guess who died!" And then fell back asleep for another hour and a half. What a champ! And a handsome champ, if I may say so myself.

And Then This Happened

2011-04-28T22:37:00.003+01:00

I glanced up and looked out of the window to what I thought was an odd misty rain storm. Turns out it was a fire across the canal in an abandoned building.

I grabbed the camera and started taking pictures, as you do. The Fire Brigade showed up about 10 minutes after I first noticed the fire, and this was the best shot out of all of them, which has the Fire Brigade in the foreground.

Nobody was hurt, as it's an abandoned warehouse, and thanks to Mother Nature, none of the smoke blew over into our windows. Lots of happenings in Dublin these days!

I've Got Nothing

2011-04-28T12:24:00.002+01:00

The weather has been particularly wonderful of late, and I've been spending a lot of time outside. I'm sure this will all change tomorrow, but I'm enjoying it while I can.

And because I'm enjoying it and because the sun colors my moods as well as my skin, I've got nothing to write about.

Don't worry, I'm sure it'll rain again soon. But until then, I'll be outside catching some rays.

It's About Time

2011-04-21T14:54:00.003+01:00

In all the years I've lived in Dublin and in all the cab rides I've taken, I've never once had a cabbie who has been to Boston.

You see, each cabbie inevitably will hear my accent and ask if I'm from the States. And then ask where. And then say, 'I've never been to Boston, but I have been to New York, and I love it.'

Not today.

Today, I took a cab from Parnell Street to the apartment for several reasons such as: a full bladder, three huge bags of things, being 9 mos. with child, and being tired. Sure, I could have taken the LUAS to Mayor Square and walked across the Samuel Beckett Bridge and through the docklands to get back to the apartment, but today, I really did not want to. And, since I walked about 3 miles yesterday, and already clocked in 1.5 today, I figured why not.

So, together with my favorite partner-in-crime, I hailed a cab and was whisked away to the PromisedLand (the south side). But first asked where I was from.
"Outside Boston." I said.
"I LOVE BOSTON!!" was his response.
"You do?!" was my shocked retort.

IT'S ABOUT TIME!

And then he proceeded to tell me that he and the missus go to Boston at least once a year to shop. At the Wrentham Outlets. And then he told me how much he loves PF Changs and the Cheesecake Factory and I told him to go to Bertucci's next time he's there because he will not be disappointed.

He asked if I was here because I married an Irishman. I told him, "Isn't that always the way?" and, oh, how we laughed. Then he asked why we didn't live in Boston, a place where you can get Timberland boots for $60, as opposed to €160. I said, "Oh, just give us time."

My favorite part of the whole ride was when he told me that he hated New York City.
"ME TOO." I said, "And not just because of their sports teams." We agreed that Boston was much friendlier, easier to get around, and you don't feel claustrophobic with all the buildings looming overhead. He said he could breathe in Boston.

A cabbie who loves Boston and hates New York? I couldn't believe my luck! All this combined with yet another beautiful, sunny day? I should consider playing the lottery tonight.

Everything's coming up Millhouse!

On The Royal Wedding

2011-04-20T20:25:00.003+01:00

The other day, Becky asked me how much hype the Royal Wedding was getting over here in Ireland.

The long and short of it (at least from where I'm sitting) is that nobody seems to be paying much attention.

People will watch it, sure, but I don't think anyone is clustering around the water cooler spitballing ideas about Kate Middleton's wedding dress. I could be 100% wrong on this, because the crowd I run in sure doesn't think twice about it, and that whole 'unemployment' thing. However, there are never any mentions of the wedding on Irish TV channels, well, except for Xpose, and I don't watch that because it conflicts with The Simpsons, and I have priorities.

I'm going to watch it. Why not? I have nothing else to do that day, and I missed Princess Di's wedding to Prince Charles for various reasons like I was one year old at the time.

Luckily, or unluckily for us, we also get a handful of British channels (BBC 1+2, Channel 4, UTV, ITV, E4, and Living) and some of these channels are starting to bombard the viewer with The Wedding. I don't really watch the British channels, because I find the Irish channels far superior in many ways, but especially with the Irish programming, like 'Blackmarket Ireland' and 'Ireland Caught on Tape.' Brilliant stuff.

I'm not sure the Irish give much thought to what the Brits are doing. This is evident by the fact that Obama's visit in May is getting more press time than the Queen's visit, which is also in May.

How is the coverage in the US? I feel like it's getting shoved down people's throats, and I'm basing this solely on the most recent People Magazines that I've read, which feature the 'Royal Wedding Watch' section. Not a lot of news happening then, eh People Magazine?

How is it in the UK?

You Call Yourself Family?

2011-04-18T14:23:00.003+01:00

This morning on BBC Breakfast, they were interviewing a 'cousin' of Kate Middleton's.

The word 'cousin' is in quotes because she was actually a third cousin, or what I like to call 'not actually related.' Interestingly, she calls herself a cousin, yet she's not invited to the wedding. I clearly remember having to invite my cousins to my wedding, even the ones who lived in Alaska!

One minute into the interview, I wanted to jump on screen and set her straight by telling her, 'Listen here, Fame Whore. You're no cousin of Kate's.' And then I would have broken it down for her.
'FW,' (because we'd have established a rapport by now, and I could have used a nickname), 'If you haven't met this cousin, why the feck would you call yourself a cousin?' And she would answer, 'To get on TV, of course. And to promote my new single.'

This would be like if I found out that I was Johnny Depp's 'cousin' (topical!) and then went to the papers with stories about how Johnny was always Gramma's favorite nephew by marriage. And then I got interviewed by many a news outlet, all while promoting my new single, 'Cousin Rock.' (I know I'm not related to Johnny Depp, because none of my family is from Kentucky, and I think that might be where Johnny Depp is from.)

Everyone has second and third cousins. I do, and I've met some of mine. Some I've known my whole life, some I've met recently, and some I've even met in Ireland (because they live here.) But people who come out of the woodwork and claim to be a cousin when their relation is famous or marrying a prince really bother me. Have some dignity, 'cousin.'

Building vs Bus

2011-04-14T19:17:00.005+01:00

Today I got to see a building show a Dublin Bus who is boss.

It was epic.

I was in Blackrock, finished with the grocery shopping, and making my way back to the DART. To get to the DART from the main street, you take a left down a side street, which actually sounds more complicated than it is, believe me. On the corner of that side street and the main street, there is a building. On that building, there is an awning that is apparently made out of Taking Care of Business and Don't Mess With Me. To add to the mix, there was some construction happening on the side street.

Enter the Dublin Bus. The Bus took a left to go down that side street, because across from the DART station is a bus stop. I guess the driver took the turn a little tight, because the next thing I knew, I was watching the bus sideswipe a building and watching glass shower down on the sidewalk.

Three things: 1) Had I been 5 seconds earlier, I would have been showered in glass. 2) It was safety glass. And 3) Luckily, nobody ended up taking a glass shower on this day.

The bus took quite the hit from the awning, as the entire top of the bus in the back was crushed in and three windows were broken. At this point, a construction worker started shouting for the bus driver to stop and back up, which he did, and which caused even more damage to the bus. Apparently Dublin buses are made out of tin and safety glass.

The bus was stuck.

I walked on. Hey, I had a DART to catch.

In hindsight, I should have asked the bus driver if he had enjoyed his last day of work.

3 Years

2011-04-13T10:03:00.001+01:00

Happy Anniversary to the SJC!

Here's to many more!

The Week: A Recap

2011-04-11T14:06:00.002+01:00

Last week my Mom was here to visit, which explains my absence from this blog. She arrived on Saturday the 2nd and left on Saturday the 9th. We had a few days in Dublin and a few days in Sligo, and one of those days was her birthday.

We took a trip to Dundrum on Mothering Sunday, and I think Mom was surprised at how many people were out shopping on a Sunday. She was baptized by fire into the 'I refuse to get out of your way while I'm walking' mentality that a lot of people in Dublin seem to have. I told her to just stick her elbows out slightly and prepare to shoulder check people if they don't budge an inch. And to remember to look out for #1: Yourself. She also got to experience the splendor of Tesco and I think it will forever haunt her dreams.

Tuesday we took the 11am train to Sligo. That is a great train to take because nobody is on it. I also taught Mom how to maneuver her way onto the train in such a fashion that you'll be the first one on. The purpose of this is to get the seats reserved for Old People or Pregnant People. Those are the extra leg room seats, and so far, the only perk I've noticed comes with this whole business of carrying a child in utero.

Thursday was Mom's birthday and if you can believe it, the weather on the West Coast of Ireland was ridiculously beautiful. I'm talking about cloudless skies and sitting outside for an hour while getting a slight sunburn. Count me in for many more days of that! We headed to Donegal for Mom's birthday dinner, to Harvey's Point and it was delightful.

I'm sure Mom appreciated the Irish band next door to the restaurant (something that never happens at Harvey's Point, but happened the night we were there because there was a group of Americans staying at the hotel who demanded entertainment.) They played your typical Irish songs, like 'The Wild Rover' and others. I don't know many Irish songs, which may shock you, but I know about The Wild Rover because of The Dropkick Murphys.

Sidenote: The SJC and I went to see the Dropkick Murphys in Dublin once and it was clear that I was the only one there familiar with some of their catalog because the crowd was silent until they played I'm Shipping Up to Boston. High fives to you for that one, Martin Scorsese!

It was sad to leave Sligo on Friday. It's always sad to leave Sligo! Friday night we met up with Kim for dinner at Milano. And on Saturday, Mom flew home!

A whirlwind trip, but a good one.

Special thanks to Mom for lugging over a suitcase full of clothing for her second Grandchild, and for coming in general!

So, that was my week. How was your week?

Turning 7

2011-04-09T09:04:00.000+01:00

This day marks the 7th anniversary of my blog. Holy pants, that's a long time. Granted, my first blog post was nothing to write home about, but hey, it was a start. And I blogged every year since 2004.

Where has the time gone! What was my life like when I was 24? Hint: it involved booze and dance parties.

Now that I'm 7 years older, I feel much more worldly. I've seen many things and done many things that I never thought I would do.

So, Happy 7th Birthday, Blog. I remember when you were just Half-Truths and Gorilla Dust. And now you're It Be Liz.

Keep on keeping on.

Happy 64th!

2011-04-07T12:21:00.002+01:00

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Thank you for coming to Ireland to spend your day with me. And here's to many more birthdays!

Gray Hairs

2011-04-06T12:47:00.003+01:00

And so, despite all the plucking and disregarding the warning that '7 more will come to it's funeral!' the grays are starting to take over the top of my head. Not even grays, but whites. Apparently there is no in-between in Body by Liz.

I don't care for this. For starters, I have darkish brown hair. White strands really show up and pack a punch. I pluck out the ones I can see because I'm too young for this. I'm too young! I'm 31 years old, I still feel like I'm 25 and probably still act like it. I didn't have grays when I was 25! I had highlights! Natural highlights. Okay, I still have those too, but there is a cluster of grays (I refer to them as The Colony) in one area of my head that is usually, thankfully, covered by my side part. But soon it will become a Bonnie Raitt situation and there's no turning back from that.

I could dye my hair, but I probably won't, due to sheer resistance to change.

Also, Bonnie Raitt is all sorts of awesome.

Housekeeping

2011-04-01T17:49:00.003+01:00

Happy April 1st. My favorite part about this day is not being pranked. I don't like pranks.
I just published my first private blog entry on 'When Tall People Reproduce.' If you want access to the blog, just comment here with your email address and I'll add you.
I hope that blog stays private, not that I wrote anything particularly juicy, but I'm just saying.
My Mom comes tomorrow - hooray!

That is all.

Fast Times at the Hard Rock Cafe

2011-03-29T16:15:00.004+01:00

I have been jonesin' for some nachos of late, for no particular reason than one day I thought of them and that was it - I couldn't shake the idea of them. I managed to hold out for two weeks but yesterday I was daydreaming of delicious cheese and a crispy crunch and sour cream and, well, I lit up the Batman signal and off to the Hard Rock Cafe Kim and I went.

(I learned the trick of ordering the nachos as a main from Beth, so I guess you could say this was the equivalent of pouring one out for my homie.)

I believe we were the first ones to be seated and served, which works for me. I ordered the nachos without jalapenos and with chicken and many minutes later, they arrived. In between ordering time, a group of non-descript tourists were seated at the table next to us. I thought they kept looking over at us, because we're so beautiful, but then realized they were probably looking in the direction of one of the many TVs the HRC has, because they were playing a Tom Petty video.

Once our server set down our lunches (nachos for me, Cobb salad for Kim,) the non-descript tourists really were looking over at us. And one of them, the boldest one, asked if he could take a picture of our food.

Oh..kay...

Naturally, I tried to get out of the shot, but he pointed me back into it. And click. I believe the face I was making was 'Take the picture, you asshole.' I thought nothing of it, other than it was bizarre that someone wanted to take a picture of two people's lunches at the Hard Rock Cafe. They ordered burgers and what not, so their plates weren't as fascinating as ours.

And then we left and had a good laugh about them. But now I'm suspicious. Are the portions that big? Were they genuinely amazed by the portion size? (Clearly they have never been to the Cheesecake Factory.) Were we freaks of nature for defying the food pyramid (well, me, not so much Kim, she had a salad and I think she hit all the groups)? Did they take the picture to put on a website called 'Look at that chunker and how much she eats?' Because if they did, that's not a fair representation of what I actually ate. For starters, I'm 8 months knocked up. And secondly, they should have taken an 'After' shot because I hardly made a dent in those nachos. Sometimes having a squished stomach pays off. (And I know about the squished stomach because of the Boston Museum of Science. Science is great, but I digress.)

Now, I hate those assholes. I hope their camera gets stolen and they get deported.

Let this be a lesson to everyone. Never ask the people at the table next to you if you can take a picture of their lunch. It's inappropriate. And later on, they will probably curse you.

I Spy

2011-03-28T12:24:00.004+01:00

I just spent a solid 45 minutes staring out the window across the canal, and, on occasion, using my husband's telephoto lens to take pictures of the haps.

No, I wasn't watching a film being made (this time), it was something more intriguing. You see, the Garda Water Unit Diving Section (The GWUDS, I guess, for shot) is out and about across the canal, obviously taking care of business.

I'm nosy, to a limited extent. Whatevs, nobody dies from curiosity. I don't go through people's stuff, because that's private, but if there is something going down outside and I am able to witness it, then, by God, I will witness it.

Though, after 45 minutes, there wasn't much to witness except for divers popping up at random with flashlights on their heads and saying something to the other Gards who were waiting for them.

What were they looking for?

I don't know, because I don't have supersonic hearing yet, so I started to speculate. Naturally, my first thought was a dead body. Yep, there have been many a drownings in this canal basin, which is very sad. But then I told myself to think outside the big picture. What could they possibly be looking for that took 3 divers and at least 2 ground crew (one with a rope?)

I came up with the following list: A giant crocodile. Or giant crocodile eggs. A Great White Shark (in my dreams, one lives in the canal.) Buried treasure (there was a rainbow that ended in the canal basin about 2 weeks ago!) A wallet that one of the Gards lost. The Hope Diamond. And then my ideas got stupid and realistic. Maybe they were checking the water quality? Or estimating how long it would take to clean the trash out of the canal (a long time.)

I hate it when reality sets in, it's so boring. So I will continue to live this day thinking, 'Wow, the Gards were looking for some sort of mega-animal that may or may not live in the Grand Canal Basin.' And the next time the paddle-board school paddles by, I will warn them to watch out for giant crocodiles and then laugh while they paddle like hell to get out of the water.

Summertime in March

2011-03-24T16:51:00.002Z

Last year, our summer came and went in April, and it was magnificent, albeit short. Seasons don't necessarily stick within their monthly guidelines in these here parts, so when you get a good stretch of days, it's best to capitalize the hell out of them and go outside and enjoy the sun while it lasts.

I think this week is our summer, and sadly, this week is still March. I'm okay with this, because it comes at a perfect time. Cabin Fever was about to set in, and along with that, the moaning and groaning of 'WHERE IS THE SUN! I JUST WANT TO GO OUTSIDE.' Okay, I'm exaggerating. I should replace 'SUN' with 'WARM-TYPE WEATHER.' And the warm-type weather made it's triumphant return to Dublin this week.

I am loving every minute of it.

We haven't done Spring Forward yet, that happens this weekend. It is delightful to wake up at 7am to sunlight and have the sunlight stretch into the early evening. What a difference from the winter! And, we're only 4 hours ahead of the Eastern Seaboard at this point, so, even though I still live in the future, it's not that far into the future. The perfect storm of awesomeness!

On this fine day, I was fortunate enough to get out and about for several hours and enjoy the sunshine on my face. I even took off my jacket halfway through the walk - that's how nice it was. I hear tomorrow is supposed to be as nice as today, which is fabulous news.

It's weeks like this that make it extremely difficult to leave Ireland.

(And to answer the question you're all dying to ask, no, my freckles haven't made a huge comeback yet, but they will.)

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

2011-03-22T18:51:00.002Z

It might help to listen to this in the background as you read:

I recently broke up with a tried, true, and exceptionally lovely friend, bagels.

It was an extremely difficult thing to do, but it had to be done. My reasons were many, the least of which that I can't find whole wheat bagels anywhere, and I refuse to look beyond my local supermarket and Marks & Spencer.

There goes my morning breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese. In it's place, multi-grain toast has made an appearance, but we both know it's a rebound. Once I can get my hands on some wheat bagels, maybe, just maybe, there will be a reconciliation and a live reunion special on Bravo.

Bagels, I just wanted you to know, you'll always hold a special place in my heart. I'll never forget the good times we had together, in the sunshine, and the laughter underneath the beautiful rainbows that happen here on an almost daily basis that nobody cares about except for me (rainbows are awesome.) I'll never forget the bad times we had together, either, like when you would burn my thumb and pointer finger. But the bad times were too few to matter. Too few to really count. I'm so sorry, bagels.

I'll miss you always, or at least until wheat shows it's face around here.

Goodbye, bagels. Goodbye.

Ode to a Fruit

2011-03-21T15:48:00.004Z

Dearest Avocados,

Why are you so magical? Everything about you is delicious and delightful, from your color, to your texture, to your taste. You are particularly delicious when I enjoy a turkey sandwich, which is pretty great anyway. I don't know how you did it, but you've made a turkey sandwich more enjoyable. Your mystery intrigues me. I wonder if I can grow you in trees for my own harvest.

Hey, Avocado, let's be friends forever.

I love you.

Love,
Liz

Knowledge is Power

2011-03-17T13:59:00.005Z

Some tips for you on this St. Patrick's Day:

1) Paddy is the nickname for Patrick. Patty is the nickname for Patricia. I'm pretty sure there is no St. Patricia's Day.

2) You don't have to wear green. You won't get pinched if you don't wear green, in fact, I don't think people will notice.

3) You don't have to eat corned beef and cabbage. I don't think anyone does.

4) Just as a heads up, the Irish don't wear kilts. Nor do they play bagpipes. You're thinking of the Scots.

5) Feel free to enjoy your pint. Just make sure it's not green Budweiser. That's lame. Have a Guinness. Oh, and you don't need to take the whole day off from work to get knee-walking drunk. That's not how the Irish roll.

I hope this helps. But, more importantly, I hope to live in a world where, someday in the near future, people are smart enough not to say 'Happy St. Patty's Day.'

A girl can dream.

The Ides of March

2011-03-15T13:16:00.002Z

What better way to celebrate the Ides of March than to have a picnic at St. Stephen's Green with a few buddies? Sure, it's March, it's no exactly warm out, but at least it wasn't raining.

Here is something I don't understand about Dublin: why are there so many animals? I'm talking horses and goats, not just dogs and birds. The horses, I can understand - those tourist sure love their horse-drawn carriage rides. But when a hiker brought a goat for a walk in St. Stephen's Green this afternoon, I, well, I was stumped.

First, that he was a backpacker, so obviously traveling around Ireland at this time. And second, that his companion was a goat. I wanted to ask so many questions, like 'Is the primary purpose of this goat for it to act as your traveling companion or is it strictly for goat milk?' and 'Did you know they sell goat milk in stores?' I also wanted to ask, if the goat wasn't for milk, or goat's cheese, was it this fellow's best friend? Or was he just traveling with a goat to get his picture taken? Because, if that's the case, it worked. One of my pals got a covert shot, but other people weren't quite as stealth about it. Amateurs.

Anyway, Goats McGoaterton left the area eventually, maybe he'd had enough of the paparazzo, who's to say. We were left with pigeons and seagulls staring at us like they wanted to share our lunch. That's all well and good, pigeons and seagulls, but I'll share my lunch with you when you get a job, and I don't count 'flying in groups and playing target practice' as work. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate birds? I hate birds. Luckily, the people next to us were willing to share their hard-earned lunches. Enablers.

But despite the oddity of a goat and the annoyance of the birds, it was a good time. It was nice to get outside for a bit, even on this, the anniversary of Julius Caesar's death.

Meanwhile, in Dublin

2011-03-14T09:35:00.006Z

A disappointing weekend in terms of Six Nations, but a hugely successful weekend in terms of grocery shopping.

I'm not a foodie by a long shot, but I can appreciate flavors and foodstuffs that don't include mushrooms (vomit) or tomatoes (woof.) My recent re-discovery of hummus has me walking on cloud 9. Mind you, the hummus I used to buy in the US also had spinach and artichoke in it, and the stuff I buy here is plain, but still, it's magnificent.

Saturday the SJC and I went grocery shopping, and boy did we ever. It's nice to open the fridge and see more than Philadelphia cream cheese and milk. Now we see carrots, cucumbers, hummus, turkey, chicken, avocados, and three blocks of cheese. Do we need the three blocks of cheese we purchased? Probably not, but Superquinn's Superior Quality Vintage Cheddar is probably the best cheese on Earth.

I don't feel like a college student anymore, surviving on Ramen and Pop Tarts! At last, we can eat again!

Here's why it took us so long to go and do a big grocery shop: Because I don't want to carry 3 heavy bags of groceries from Blackrock to the apartment via the DART all by myself. I probably need one of those 4-wheel cart things to make my life easier. Sure, only old ladies use them, but that's because old people are smart and have wisdom. We could all take a page or two from the old people booklet!

They sell the 4-wheel cart things at IKEA, but also, there's something called online shopping now, which is shocking and intriguing all at the same time.

And, in completely other news, last night we watched a film called The Ghost, or The Ghost Writer if you're in the US, and I didn't care for it.

Why?

Because it allegedly took place on Martha's Vineyard but was filmed in Germany. I know and understand why this had to happen, because Roman Polanski is a wanted man, but it was among the many unbelievable things in the film. Some other unbelievable things - why were so many British PMs in the US at the same time, or more specifically, in Massachusetts at the same time? And at the end, with the big reveal, it was all sort of like 'All that for this?' I get it, it's supposed to be a commentary on modern times, with thinly veiled references to Tony Blair and William Jefferson Clinton (and their wives) but to me, the film was a lot like the house depicted in the film: unwelcoming and cold. Also, THAT DIDN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE WOODS HOLE! Come on.

And finally, a plea to Channel E4: Please stop playing 'Friends' so much. It's probably the worst show on syndication besides 'Two and a half Men.'

Meowsers Meowington and the Gang

2011-03-10T14:02:00.002Z

I have no idea why, but there are a lot of cats in the courtyard of the apartment complex in which I live. Maybe there are a lot of hidden places for cats to crawl in and out of, or maybe the cats just like it here because people feed them and nobody tries to hurt them. Or maybe it's because cats are awesome.

Earlier this week, there were notices by the front door that said 'Do not feed the cats as they are being removed tomorrow.' If I know one thing, it's that you can't keep a good cat down. And if I know another thing, it's that when it comes to cats, people like to break the rules. These notices have been up since at least Monday, and since Tuesday, I've seen at least three cats. I call one of the cats Meowsers Meowington, because I see it all the time. And just last week, I spotted a new cat. It was living the dream, trying to hide in the bushes to take a nap, but it was easy to spot. For one thing, the cat is black and white, and it was hiding in greenery. For another thing, this cat had a very Hitler-like mustache. So I named him Meowdolf Hitler.

Between Meowdolf Hitler and Meowsers Meowington, I sincerely hope that The Management don't round up all the cats to move them. If they are successful in this endeavor, I also sincerely hope that the Gang of Catnips (see what I did there?) has some sort of GPS or an awareness of their surroundings, and come right the hell back to our beautiful courtyard to cute it up forever more.

In the meantime, I'm going to protest by chanting, 'Keep the cats in the courtyard!' or 'Down with moving the cats!'

Also, I could probably stand to pick up a hobby. Any suggestions?

And Now, I Laugh

2011-03-08T14:00:00.004Z

Here are my two favorite jokes right now. Be warned, they're pretty lame, but you should also know that after I heard each of them, I laughed for a long time. I guess it doesn't take much.

Without further ado:

Q: How do you know if someone has an iPhone?
A: Don't worry, they'll tell you.

(Even typing it makes me laugh.)

Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Oh, it's a really obscure number, you've probably never heard of it.

(LOLerskating right now.)

Mind you, these two jokes have dethroned the formerly number one joke in my heart:
Two muffins were in an oven. One muffin turned to the other muffin and said, 'Woah, it's hot in here.' The other muffin said, 'Hey! A talking muffin!'

Yeah. I know. Don't quit my day job.

Forgetful Jones

2011-03-07T09:27:00.006Z

Sometimes it just hits me like a bolt of lightning that I've probably forgotten something, but I just can't seem to remember what I've forgotten. One time I read an article in YM about a woman who never went to her senior prom and spent the rest of her life thinking she'd forgotten something. And it turns out, she'd just forgotten to go to the prom. Well, I went to my prom, so it's never what I've forgotten.

I suppose if you don't have a daily routine (get up, shower, breakfast, go to work) your mind just slips away and the circus band starts marching around to fill up the space. Good times.

Now, I was kind of a jerk in my early 20s. I think it was a volatile mix of me thinking I was wicked awesome and thinking I was way too good for the college which I went to. (Note: I still feel this way, that college was pathetic and I regret every minute of it. Even more so when I think about how I have to pay back student loans. What a waste. Kids, don't go to the University of Southern Maine.) Somehow, I managed to pull good grades. Which was a change from my time at the first college I went to, formerly Framingham State College (now Framingham State University), where I lived on campus and still didn't always feel like going to classes. A little thing called MarioKart64 was more important. I was 18. We all make mistakes.

I got my act together when I transferred to Massachusetts Bay Community College at age 20. (Why did I transfer? There was a mass exodus at FSC and Tom transferred to another school. Also, all that MarioKart led to a little threat called 'Academic Probation' or, as I like to call it, 'Scared Straight: The College Years.') Mass Bay will go down in history as the greatest school of all time for three reasons: 1) It was awesome 2) I had excellent professors and 3) their mascot is the Mass Bay Buccaneers. When I strike it rich, my money will be donated to Mass Bay. And Mass Bay only. Okay, I've reconsidered, Mass Bay gets most of it, but USM gets a statue shaped like a middle finger, because that's what it deserves.

Why the convoluted history lesson? Because as much as I hated USM, I had some good friends and good memories. And I had to go to summer school. I didn't want to live on campus for summer school because it would have been extremely cost ineffective (out-of-state tuition for the whole summer, even though my classes were 2 weeks long, total.) So one of my friends kindly offered to let me crash at his place for 2 weeks (he wasn't going to be there) and I accepted. And yesterday, it hit me like a bolt of lightning that I may never have thanked him for it.

So immediately I started thinking, 'Who else have I forgotten to thank?' And I've been racking my brain trying to come up with people. Then I started thinking, 'Do I owe anyone money?' But no, I don't, because I don't borrow money from people, because I was taught never to borrow money from friends. Then I wondered, 'Do I owe anybody an apology?' Probably.

So, Thank You to everyone and anyone who's helped me along the way. Sorry you're not getting your money back, but you can't trick me like that, I know I haven't borrowed money to begin with. And if I owe you an apology, keep waiting. I won't apologize that easily. (See, I'm still a jerk, even in my early 30s.)

**Update: Turns out I did thank my friend. I'm pleased with my younger self for being respectful and having manners.**

Americans in Sneakers

2011-03-03T19:42:00.003Z

You know about tourist stereotypes. The Spanish walk about 10 deep and shout loudly at each other. The Italians look like they've stepped off a runway. The French ride bicycles with baguettes in the basket, wear chains of garlic around their neck and berets. Canadians always have a Maple Leaf patch on their backpacks. And Americans always wear brand new sneakers. Always with the sneakers. We get so much flack for the sneakers.

Why do we wear the sneakers everywhere? Why do we not care that we look like tools walking around wearing dungarees and bright white sneakers? Because, get this: Sneakers are wicked comfortable. I mean, have you tried to walk 2 miles in them compared to walking 2 miles in your fancy brown or black shoes? No comparison.

We Americans clearly value comfort over style, hence sweatpants.

I realized this the other day when I discovered that I had no other option for footwear besides my FitFlops and my sneakers. And since this is the winter of our discontent, I've been wearing the hell out of my sneakers. When we went out for dinner the other night, I panicked because I thought I'd have to wear real shoes, and my real shoe options are limited. And I was walking to the restaurant, a brisk 1.5 mile jaunt. Sneakers it was.

I once tried to stop wearing sneakers when I go out walking to places, but, I'm not going to lie to you, it sucked. My feet hurt and I felt like I was unnecessarily torturing myself. So I went back to my sneakers. Sidenote: It's extremely difficult to find shoes in my size in the US, let alone in Ireland where I'm a good head taller than pretty much everyone here (but as my Dad would say, at least I can stand up in a hurricane.)

But what really drove this point home, the point I'm trying to make that sneakers are awesome, is when the SJC informed me that his new Saucony sneakers were divine. (He did not use the word 'divine,' he said 'great,' but the way he said it made me automatically switch it to 'divine.') This pleased me for two reasons. 1) My cousin works for Saucony and we're spreading the brand name all over Ireland and 2) Sneakers are awesome and now he finally gets it.

No longer will he feel confined to his black shoes. No longer will he feel unnecessary foot torture by standing for hours on end with his black shoes. Now he can feel the joy and delight of walking on a cloud of Heaven designed by Saucony (or in my case, Asics.) And that, my friends, is why we wear sneakers. Because they are awesome.

Next up: Getting the SJC to start wearing pleated khakis and polo shirts. Haha, just kidding.

A Delicious Steak

2011-03-02T10:03:00.003Z

Last night was date night, and the SJC made reservations and took me to the FXB Grill in Temple Bar.

The restaurant is located on Crow St, which, as we found out, is not easily accessible from Temple Bar, you're better off walking down Dame St (no big whoop.) Just a heads up in case you want to go there, because it's awesome.

The SJC had the Irish Steak Burger and I had the 10oz Dry Aged Sirloin Steak with pepper sauce. I did not try the burger, but the steak was epic. It was delicious. The steak was nice and tender and the pepper sauce was the perfect companion. I made the SJC try some of my steak with the sauce and he enjoyed it. I think he was probably a little bit jealous that I got to eat such a magical meal, but he said the burger was excellent as well, so perhaps we were winners all around last night.

I'm not a food blogger but I can highly recommend this restaurant to anyone who is looking for a good steak in Dublin. The beef comes from the FXB family farm in Co. Offaly, it's free range, and matured for at least 28 days before serving. This is all on the website.

I went through a period in my life where I did not eat beef, ground or otherwise, for about 5 years. I've been falling off the wagon ever so slowly since 2008, and I think I can count the number of steaks I've had since then on one hand. The last time I was home, my parents took me to a new steak restaurant in the next town over, which was pretty good, but nowhere near as good as the steak I had last night. To further drive my point home, this steak was so good, I immediately called my Dad when I got home to tell him that I just had a great steak.

FXB Grill on Crow Street in Temple Bar - a must try. Go, go often, and enjoy.

Weekend Highlights

2011-02-28T09:25:00.002Z

This was a pretty damn good weekend, despite not doing much.

Yesterday, the SJC and I tried a different place for brunch, the Expresso Cafe, and boy were we disappointed. It was a throw back to the rip-off days of the Celtic Tiger and my french toast was so sickly sweet, it hurt my teeth. Ouch. Also, my cranberry juice tasted like a swimming pool. I guess the lesson here is that Herbstreet is the ultimate, and can never be defeated. A tough lesson to learn, but learned well.

Sure it may have rained on us when we walked to Tesco, but it was nothing compared to the high drama inside Tesco and then, outside Tesco. While we were checking out, we could hear an argument building in the check out line. Apparently an older woman tapped a middle-aged man on his shoulder to inform him that he'd cut in line.
"I assure you, madame, that I did not see you. I'm a perfect gentleman, I wouldn't have done that if I had seen you in line."
Then she said something. And he responded, "Oh so you're playing the woman card now, are you?" At that point, our feet were almost out the door, but talk about a classic line.

Who calls them self a 'Perfect Gentleman' and then accuses an older woman of playing the woman card? Probably not a perfect gentleman. Then, not five seconds later, walking up Baggot St, we witnessed an irate Mercedes driver blocking a Saab into live-parking in a handicap parking spot. Then the Mercedes guy jumped out of his car and started banging on the window of the Saab calling the guy an asshole. Talk about an amazing few minutes on Baggot St! I had no idea what caused this, but I never wanted to leave!

We got back to the apartment in time for Ireland vs Scotland in Six Nations. The first time Ireland scored, I yelled, 'WE DID IT!' and started clapping. The SJC did not appreciate this for the following reasons: 1) I'm not from Ireland and 2) I'm not on the team. Funnily enough, those are exactly the two reasons why I did start shouting and cheering on the team. Then he called me a jinx. So when the scored again, I started cheering again. And wouldn't you know, Ireland won. So, congratulations, Ireland! WE DID IT! We gave it 110%! Well done, my team! Who's the jinx now?

The rest of the day was spent lounging, watching 'Inception' and 'The Good Guys' and discussing our plans for the big move across the Atlantic.

All in all, a great weekend.

(Except I bought pomegranate juice for a change and I'm not sure about it.)

Just Me?

2011-02-23T16:58:00.002Z

Am I the only one who, when eating carrots, sings 'Night Fever' by the Bee Gees but sings it as, 'Night Vision?' Just wondering.

Keeping Me Flush With PB&J

2011-02-22T13:47:00.003Z

Today, my guardian angel and I went to lunch. She gave me the gift of Jif, therefore keeping me flush with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and therefore making me a very happy lady.

You see, if there was ever a world without peanut butter in it, by George, I wouldn't want to live there. Like if they discovered Earth 2.0 and it had everything the Original Earth had, except for peanut butter, I would take a pass and stick with the Original Earth. Then all those suckers with peanut allergies could live freely and talk about what I imagine people with peanut allergies talk about: How much their life sucks because they can't have peanut butter.

No offense to people with peanut allergies, but I'd probably kill myself. Lactose intolerance I can deal with, because of rice milk, but not being able to enjoy a PB&J? Or even a Fluffernutter sandwich? Your world seems pretty bleak.

This is a great day. My cupboard is stocked with peanut butter. The trouble is, I have some Skippy left before I can dive into my Jif, and do you even know the difference between Skippy and Jif? It's like night and day. I suppose I could become a Skippy fan if I had never had Jif in my life, but alas, we were raised on Jif, and it's rich peanut butter goodness is like a call from home. Or like a hug from a giant bear who won't eat you.

And don't get me started on Teddie!!! That shit is the BUSINESS.

In conclusion, I like peanut butter. So, thank you Kim!

A Huge Birthday Weekend

2011-02-21T11:21:00.004Z

Yesterday, my little sister, the aptly nicknamed Smalls, turned 30. Mom was there to celebrate with her in Chicago. I got to chat with Smalls last night for a bit, catching up on the haps and giving her excellent prompts just in case (and this would never happen) the conversation between my Mom and her goes stale.

I'm good at prompts. Basically they're all jumping off points for going on long tirades, something I really enjoy doing but don't do often. Like having an ice cream sundae - it's a treat, but not one you should have every day. Or even every week. I suppose one could say the aftermath of being raised in a Puritanical area and having relatives survive the Great Depression can rear it's ugly head once in awhile. We never had dessert after dinner, ever. Not even on Sundays. Maybe the lesson here was moderation? Who's to say - I'm just rambling now.

With Smalls turning 30 on Sunday and the SJC turning 31 on Saturday, there was a lot of birthday bonanza extravaganza activities going around. The SJC really cleaned up on travel guides, which is right up his alley. He even got a special birthday cake. It was a coffee cake, and no, it's not the same as the coffee cake that Americans are familiar with.

I've heard horror stories about this coffee cake, mainly that it's repulsive. I thought, 'It can't be that bad.' Except then I heard it had walnuts on it and I thought, 'Gross.' However, this year it was made with chocolate and, hand to God, it was delightful. It was coffee flavored cake with chocolate icing. Brillz.

The weekend in the Wild West was standard - great food, good sleeps, plenty of relaxation time. I love going to Sligo and am a little bit sad that our next trip won't be until April.

Smalls, I hope you had a good birthday. Enjoy watching your greatest present, the DVD of the FutureSex/LoveSounds tour (J.Tim, for anyone wondering). See you next year for your 31st!

Smalls and me on Catalina Island, 2006.

Happy Birthday to my Beloved

2011-02-19T09:01:00.000Z

Happy Birthday to the love of my life, the SJC.

Yep, we are nerds in Time Square.

SJC, you are my best friend, my heart's desire, and the greatest thing to happen to me. Without you, I wouldn't be nearly as happy as I am now. I love you with all my heart. And you make a pretty great baby daddy.

I hope you have an excellent birthday and many more to come!

On Music

2011-02-17T13:05:00.001Z

A couple of days ago, the SJC told me that he now likes the Rolling Stones a lot more than he used to. Maybe even a little bit more than the Beatles.

Upon hearing this news, I immediately started patting myself on the back and doing the Homer Simpson circle the floor jig. Well, in my mind I did that last part. I did also give myself a high five. This is a huge accomplishment.

You see, I can tell more about a person based on whether they prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. This is not a bad thing or an awesome thing, but it helps me understand the inner workings of your mind. I know the two bands are like apples and oranges, but they came out around the same time, and it's a question I like to know the answer to.

The first person I ever met who actually asked ME if I prefer the Rolling Stones or the Beatles was a boyfriend of one of my friends. This was back in the early '00s. He then declared us 'Ultimate Best Friends' because apparently I was the first person HE'D ever met that preferred the Rolling Stones to the Beatles. We high fived over it to seal the deal. That's how friendships work. There are a lot of high fives.

When I first met the SJC, he didn't know much about my most favorite band of all time, Led Zeppelin. I know that saying Led Zeppelin is your favorite band is like saying free money is the 8th wonder of the world. It's a popular opinion. However, you can always judge whether not a person is a fan based on asking them this follow up question:
"Yeah? Well what's your favorite song?"
And if they answer "Stairway to Heaven" they are NOT FANS. That's like the worst one, and it's still a pretty good song so that's saying something about the staying power of this fantastic band.

My first CD that I ever bought was Led Zeppelin I. The second CD I ever bought was Pearl Jam's Vitalogy which proves that, clearly, I got my first CD player in 1994.

The SJC is now a fan of Led Zeppelin and enjoys many of the same songs that I do, possibly because he hears them often. This is because I'm an iPod hog. It's not my fault, I was bred to be this way. Growing up, my Mom always let us kids pick the music, which, in hindsight, was extremely nice of her. I don't think I would do the same if I was in her position. Especially considering the kind of music we could all sort of agree on was the late '80s synth-pop stuff and the early '90s hip hop or grunge era. We did fight a lot about music. (I remember being able to listen to "Sara" by Jefferson Starship every other time it came on the radio. This is because my sister hated that song with the fire of a thousand suns. Which is also probably why I loved it so much.)

Plus, Mom listens to a lot of Bob Dylan, which I think is the reason why she's cool about it. And as much as we like Bob Dylan, sometimes, especially if it's 1993, you just want to turn on Jam'n 94.5 and crank the speakers in the Ford Aerostar to Wreckx-n-Effect's 'Rump Shaker.' And yes, Mom would turn that volume right the hell down because she didn't appreciate rap music. (Our musical tastes are quite diverse, this began at an early age.) Dad, however, likes to listen to what HE likes to listen to, which varies from Clark Terry to Jimi Hendrix to Hall and Oates on any given day. And if he wants to annoy you, he listens to talk radio.

Anyway, being an iPod hog/my father's daughter has really paid off because I've managed to indoctrinate the SJC about the greatest era of music our world has known: Classic Rock. And now he likes the Rolling Stones slightly more than the Beatles. My job here is done.

Now, if you'll excuse me, 'Maneater' by Hall & Oates just came on my iPod and I have to have a dance party.

Romance Isn't Dead

2011-02-16T16:11:00.003Z

Monday was Valentine's Day. To prove that Romance is alive and well, my Dad gave my Mom a squirrel-proof bird feeder. This may sound like an un-romantic gift, but it had my Mom gushing like a high schooler about how much she loves my father and wanted a bird feeder.

And I got a quarter pounder with cheese. This may also sound un-romantic, but after a 4 year hiatus from red meat (particularly ground beef) I'm back on the wagon in a major way. If I could eat steak every night, I probably would, but I don't really want to have high blood pressure or a heart attack, so I watch what I eat. This sounds like I'm 'craving' red meat, but this particular feeling has been with me for almost a year now. Also, I don't believe in cravings. I think it's a trick that people tell you. And I don't appreciate being tricked.

I've heard many romantic stories about Monday's events (aka "Vantine's Day," as our local Chinese restaurant calls it,) and people are getting golf claps from me left and right. Going out for dinner and getting flowers? Red light special! (Yes, that's a TLC reference.)

The SJC and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. I'm not someone who will go out of my way to trash couples or wear red, it's just not on my radar as an important holiday.

I appreciate the finer holidays in life. Give me your MLK, Jr days. Give me your President's Day, your Patriot's Day, your Flag Day, your Thanksgiving Day, and especially, your Cinco de Mayo.

In the ultimate show of Romance, the SJC took Monday AND Tuesday off so we had a lovely long weekend together. We did what married couples do - held hands and went grocery shopping. And he proved his romantic love for me by not making fun of me when I opted to take a cab back with the groceries to avoid walking over a mile in the pouring rain. He opted to walk home, and I proved my romantic love for him by letting him borrow my brand new wind-proof umbrella.

Romance! Alive and flourishing in these here parts. Jealous?

Frankenstein's Day

2011-02-14T08:55:00.002Z

Happy Frankenstein's Day to you and yours.

Why Frankenstein? I don't remember. I think because it rhymes with Valentine's. This all began when I was in college and got really sick of the VD hype. It's just a day. And I know it's a legit holiday, not one made up by the greeting card companies, but it's definitely a polarizing day. I'm all for equality.

And while I'm on the subject, what the hell happened to the Grammy's? They went from legit to awarding pop to just giving up on life. While I am glad that little douche from Canada didn't win Best New Artist, the awards still recognize artists who use auto-tune as a crutch. Doesn't that mean they're not actually good at singing? It's a crazy world.

We Emerged Victorious

2011-02-07T15:17:00.003Z

You're going to want to listen to this while you read on.

As most of you probably don't know, this weekend, the SJC and I went to Sligo to participate in a table quiz as sponsored by his parent's church. This is our third year going. The first year, we came in second. The second year, we came in third. This year, we emerged victorious.

I think it helped that we had a man of the cloth, his misses, a genius cook, a member of MENSA, and the Geography Quiz Winner of 1998 on our team. And I think it helped that finally, my useless knowledge of John Travlota and Whoopi Goldberg's film career helped us out in a major way.

Some of the questions included, but were not limited to:
Which country consumes the most amount of beef? (America!)
Which teams are in the Superbowl this weekend? (Steelers, Packers.)
A whole round about the Bible. (I sat this one out.)
What is it called when you boil a chicken in water? (Blanching. I knew this because of the Great Buffalo Chicken Dip Communication Breakdown of 2010.)

And more. So much more.

It took about 4 hours to complete. The competition was stiff. We faced a real estate mogul who doesn't drive the Batmobile, a Stephen Merchant look-alike, a Jamaican, and the cutest boy on 4 legs. We were not daunted. We prevailed and became the 2011 Champions. I wanted to do a lap around the room chanting, 'We're number one! We're number one!' but this was a church event and I was on my best behavior.

The prizes were flush. Mostly chocolate and inexpensive bottles of wine, but we cleaned up nicely. It was a day that live in infamy.

Now we have to decide if we should retire champions and have our team name hung on the rafters of the Cathedral, or come back next year to defend our title...

And Then There Was Laughter

2011-02-03T10:31:00.002Z

One of the perks of moving out of New England to a more temperate climate was the lack of snow. I can't stand snow. Sure, I liked it when I was a kid and when I was in college when we had snow days. Those were epic days. But once I became an adult, or my definition of the word, I started to hate snow.

My definition of the word:

Adult (uh-dult)
adjective

Someone who has a job and/or has to commute to work

Boooooo! Wasn't college fun! I guess it was if you didn't go to a lame college like I did, but hindsight is 20/20. At least Tony Shalhoub spoke at my graduation. And graduation night was fun. But I digress.

When I was an adult and commuted to work in Boston, my hours were 7am to 3:30pm. One thing I hate as much as snow is rush hour traffic. I drove the Massachusetts Turnpike aka the Mass Pike aka The Pike to and from work every single day. In New England, the Department of Public Works are pretty good at clearing snow from roads and runways because, well, it snows a lot in the winter. So it wasn't too bad, but people seem to forget how to drive in the snow, which I always thought was weird, since it usually snows every year. I still hated it, though. My visions of building a self-sustained and carbon neutral city called Snowtopia in the backyard were shattered when I realized I had to get to work to jump on a conference call with (enter corporation here) about their upcoming (enter event here.) The pits!

When I moved to the IRL, I didn't miss waking up at 5am to check how high the snow was, bundling up, and then going outside to clear off the car and shovel my way out. I didn't miss that at all. I did miss snow days, but when you're unemployed, you can argue that every day is a snow day.

However, the past 3 winters have been pretty mild in Massachusetts, so I figured global warming was finally working and things were looking up. (I associate the winter severity with the number of snow days my Mom got during the school year.) Part of me also dreaded moving home because I knew Mother Nature probably had it out for me and the year I moved back would be a banner year for snowfall.

Turns out I was right, but Mother Nature was ahead of the game.

There have been 70 inches of snow in Boston so far this year. In BOSTON. Much more in the suburbs because of the ocean effect. To put this in perspective, I'm 71 inches tall. The amount of snow has been measured since December. In an average year, there is usually about 48 inches of snow. There aren't 70 inches on the ground right now, some of it has melted. But yesterday when I called home (my Mom had a snow day,) I was informed that the snow goes up to my father's mid-thigh. My father is over 6 feet tall. That's a lot of snow.

And later in the day, I got to Skype with my sister. She showed me the scene outside where her husband was clearing the snow with a snow blower. The snow went up to his waist. That's a lot of snow.

So I did what anyone in my situation would do. I started laughing. And I kept right on laughing and going, 'Yeah!' and doing air punches and fist punches and rejoicing in Ireland's lack of snow. Yesterday it was in the 50s and today it's sunny. More snow is expected to hit New England this weekend. And more sun is expected to shine in Ireland this weekend.

Talk about being a winner. This round goes to me!

Red Sky at Morning

2011-01-31T08:57:00.003Z

This morning I woke up at 7:45 because I thought Godzilla was stomping around in the hallway outside of our apartment. Then I realized, it was just the iron being put down on the counter as the SJC ironed his shirt. I got up, because I figured, 'What the hell, Kim wakes up earlier than this. Maybe there is something awesome about waking up this early?'

Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. That's all I saw. That, and a bagel for breakfast. And David Cameron on the BBC News. I spent the rest of the morning trying to convince the SJC to call in sick from work, and then trying to trick him into being late so he wouldn't have to go. Turns out he's sharp as a tack and caught on fairly quickly. I tried to show him where Tijuana was on a map to prove it was on a coast and maybe spark some lively debate, but he wasn't having it. In the end, I believe it was the question, 'How many time zones are there in Australia' that made him give up on my round of general questions.

I'll know better for next time. AKA Tomorrow morning.

The Haps

2011-01-30T14:06:00.004Z

I used to be good at going out and taking photos of Dublin every day. Then I had a few rough months and Daily Dose of Dublin had to be put on the back burner. As of today, Daily Dose of Dublin is no more.

I had a few rough months because, as life would have it, I have gotten knocked up. Wondering why my mojo disappeared? Or why I was sick so often? (I do not wish Hyperemesis Gravidarum on my worst enemy.) Well now you know. I'm sure it wasn't too tough to crack that code. I'm keeping this information off the Facebook because one of my hugest pet peeves in life is people who go on and on and on about their pregnancies and shove in your face every craving, every feeling, every mundane thought they have until you scratch your eyes out from frustration and maybe set something on fire while screaming 'SHUT UP' from the top of your lungs. I call those people 'Attention Whores.' I will not be that person.

I'm keeping the details of this pregnancy off this blog for selfish reasons. This blog is about me and my thoughts. I have taken it one step further and created a blog for those who are interested in hearing my heavily sarcastic thoughts about this time in my life. I imagine my target audience are the handful of people called my family, clustered in the Massachusetts area with an offshoot in Chicago. If anyone else is interested, the blog is named When Tall People Reproduce for obvious reasons. (I am 5'11 and the SJC is 6'4. We are tall people.)

So there you have it. It's a work in progress, I'm still updating the design and layout.

In the meantime, I hope you all have a fabulous weekend.

An Unwelcome Visitor

2011-01-24T16:36:00.004Z

Today is one of those days where living abroad taps you on the should and says, 'Hey, remember you don't like it here? Remember how convenient things are in America?' And then you get flashes of you skipping through a parking lot with shopping bags on a sunny day. You're on your way to your car and the background music is a song about sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, and lemon drops. I spend most of my days avoiding this ugly truth, but today it served me breakfast in bed and decided to stick around all day, just for good measure.

I know a lot of people think that I hate it in Ireland and that's not true. I don't mind it, but I really really miss the conveniences of my former life. Small things that you wouldn't think would be different. Like forced hot water. I know this is a big one because I talk about it a lot. But after you're in the shower for 5 minutes and the water turns cold, you start to understand what I mean. Now imagine that happening every single day. And I don't know about you, but I come from a certain type of people who gets irrationally angry over various things. Like horses, Garfield, and people who appreciate all the 'fine work' Chevy Chase has done for society.

I'm aggravated today because I think we need another clotheshorse. We have a lot of laundry on backup because after a recent linen closet (hot-press for you Irish readers) clean out where I discovered that a lot of sheets that could use a good wash. I don't mind air drying clothes, three cheers for the environment and all, but sometimes you just want to put your clothes into the dryer for 50 minutes and call it a day. We actually have a dryer. It doubles as a washing machine and takes about 2 hours to dry the five articles of clothing that can fit inside. And then they come out semi-dry with some scorch marks on them.

Also, I miss my car. It was a hunk of junk, but it had an iPod hookup and would drive me from point A to point B. I miss those days. I miss that Nissan Altima. I miss my Right Whale 'Preserve the Trust' license plates from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

I don't like having days like these. Days where you want to curl up in a ball and cry about how (in hindsight) glorious your old life was, with all the modern conveniences you could think of. Like how you could go to a store and pick something up when you need it. You didn't have to strategize about when to get there, how to pick up the item, and how to bring it home without having to drop extra money on a cab or bring said item on public transportation. Or really, have to walk with it for 3 miles.

These kinds of days are the pits. Somebody call the waahmbulance.

The Modern Lovers as led by Jonathan Richman of Natick, Massachusetts.

I Don't Have an Apocalypse Strategy

2011-01-21T18:20:00.005Z

Today I read a tweet that someone re-tweeted about Yellowstone looking like it's about to erupt. I thought, 'Aw hell.' In case you were wondering, Yellowstone is a super-volcano, and once that shit blows, we're all screwed.

I was mostly worried that I don't have an Apocalypse Strategy. From such glorious movies as The Day After Tomorrow and 2012, I know that when the end is coming, I'm either going to need to have Dennis Quaid for a father or know someone who can fly me to China to board a boat. Now that I think of it, my Dad is a lot like Dennis Quaid. He's in tune with nature and would definitely help any of his kids out of a jam, even if that jam is them being stuck inside the New York Public Library when the ice age hits. And then it's off to Mexico for us!

I firmly believe the Mayan Calendar stopped at 2012 because they were like, 'Eh, we'll just keep it going once it actually gets to 2012. Ha ha, 2012. That's so far away. Hey Bob, what are you doing in 2012?' and Bob answered with a wry grin and said, 'I'm taking my jet pack to the moon!' And there was much laughter.

Because think about it. If you were to create a new calendar, would you be like, 'This calendar goes on forever' or would you think that someone in the future would catch on and you'd have the calendar stop around 9999. Of course that's putting a lot of stock into our future selves. Who knows how paranoid and superstitious we'll be by then?

What I'm saying is that I don't put much stock into that whole 'the world will suddenly collapse in on itself' thing. But I do put a lot of stock into super-volcanoes. It's going to erupt. And then it's going to block out the sun. For a long time. And we will all die. This doesn't work with my schedule or my appreciation of the sun or my desire to live until I'm at least 100.

All that's left is to come up with a basic Apocalypse Strategy (canoe across the Atlantic to die with my family? What would you do?) and beg Mother Nature and Yellowstone to sit tight.

So, Yellowstone, I implore you. Keep it together. At least for another 150 years or so, then you can go nuts. Just be cool about it until then.

Do we have a deal?

Real Housewives of Dublin

2011-01-19T13:59:00.005Z

I think I'm going to start a grassroots campaign for Bravo TV to come to Dublin to film me and my friends for a television show called 'The Real Housewives of Dublin.' Why? Plain and simple, it would be GREAT television. Like The Truman Show, but less boring.

Here is what I can guarantee if Bravo comes and films me, El Presidente:

Quesadillas for lunch on occasion. Cost effective! Featuring calcium, or as I call it, calci-yum! I would also write a cookbook about my cost effective 'cooking' called Thought Ramen Noodles Were Just For College? Think Again! (The title is a work in progress.)
Dance parties. Lots and lots of dance parties, featuring me. I'm a really great interpretive dancer. I'd feature mostly classic rock, but there could be some Madonna and/or The Digital Underground in there from time to time. From this, I could spawn a workout video called 'Dancing Around The Living Room.' I would feature on the cover wearing a sweatband and giving a thumbs up. And winking.
Really wonderful, long shots of me staring out at the canal while drinking a glass of water. (Who needs vodka gimlets with this economy!?) My thoughts of the day would be the voice over. Today's thought would be something like 'It's beautiful outside. Shame about the temperatures.'
I would probably also always wear my Australian Outback hat that my Dad bought me at REI this summer.
Fabulous talking head shots of me discussing the myriad of scents one can encounter while walking down the hallway towards our apartment. Moth balls! Indian Spices! Rotten Garlic! Wet Carpet! The list is endless.
Once a week, I'd meet up with some of the other RHOD for lunch where we'd discuss many topics from politics ('Why is Brian Cowen still leading this country?') to religion ('And that's why abortion is illegal here. Catholics!') to shopping ('I hate EuroSpar. Have you tried Superquinn's cheese?') to fashion ('Did you see what those gals on 'Xpose' were wearing last night? Neon again!'). All hot-button topics designed to get the tongues wagging on the women of 'The View.'

So how about it, world? Are you ready for The Real Housewives of Dublin? Ready to go global?

H1N1 Not Welcome

2011-01-18T11:43:00.003Z

Today I got the flu shot. The number one reason being that I'd rather not die from the Swine Flu. It's not on my agenda. And, should I die from the Swine Flu in delicious irony, I bequeath all my possessions to my spouse. Hahaha, sucker, enjoy the Bose sound dock and my computer, because that's pretty much all I have.

I went into this expecting the worst. You see, back in '04, I got the flu after I got the flu shot. Apparently I had the flu all along, and the flu shot was some sick, sick joke that I never understood. Since that fateful winter day in 2004, I've refused to get the flu shot.

However, I was advised to get it this year. So I got it today. Relatively painless, but I didn't watch and gritted my teeth. Yes, I am 31 years old. And I didn't get a lollipop, but I did stop at EuroSpar on the way back to buy myself a muffin. I figured I deserved one now that I have the H1N1 vaccine swimming through my blood stream.

Next up on today's agenda: Lunch in Bray with the Real Housewives of Dublin. I hope they don't mind being called that, and I hope that if Bravo decides to go global, they contact all of us. That's hilarious television right there.

I Was Saying Booo-urns

2011-01-17T12:14:00.005Z

Yesterday, after browsing photos on the Facebook and realizing how odd it was that so many of my friends have morphed into looking exactly like the Patriot's logo, I realized that the Patriots were going to lose. Because all of those people jinxed it. Do you hear me, everyone who changed your FB photo to the Patriot's logo? This is on you.

Actually, I don't really care that much. Sorry to say, I've never been a huge football fan. All the start/stop of it and the hype. The games take forever. No thanks. Please, give me a game that takes 9 innings or a couple of hours. And sometimes, 9 hours due to a tie score. Yes. Give me baseball.

Many moons ago, before I moved to the rock they call Ireland, I was a huge baseball fan. But when you live in the future, you don't get to see the games as much. And when you live in the future in a different country, you don't get to see the games at all. So, I'm afraid my delight in baseball has somewhat faded. However, I expect a resurgence in the 2011 season for the simple fact that I will be in America to witness the tail end of the season. Oh Happy Day. Let's just hope the Red Sox make it to the World Series. And if anyone has changed their photo to the Red Sox logo, well, they just jinxed it.

A photo that will not jinx the Red Sox.

Anyway, tough loss, New England Patriots. Too bad the damned Jets won, that's the pits. And tough loss, every movie that was nominated for Best Picture in the Golden Globes besides 'The Social Network.' ZUCKERBERG!!

Life Goals

2011-01-14T10:38:00.003Z

I have a few Life Goals I'd like to share. Some are realistic. Some are just crazy talk.

To be the lead singer in a Led Zeppelin cover band. The name - to be determined, but I'm leaning towards Communication Breakdown, which is a title of one of their songs and a direct slam towards my chosen major in college. Look how far it's gotten me. Not far at all. Damn you, USM.
To make Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, and Roast Potatoes sometime. But this is complicated because it involves an oven that probably doesn't release carbon monoxide when it's turned on. And various types of pans, including one that looks like a cupcake tin and an angel food cake tin reproduced. Also, a jar of Goose Fat and a working knowledge of what the best potatoes to use are. None of these things I currently have. Also, Yorkshire Pudding isn't actually pudding, like how we Americans think of pudding (chocolate!). It's a bread type thing and it's magnificent.
To have my own talk show. Though sometimes this would be a bust since I don't really like people all that much.
To live in a house that I call my own that includes the following: forced hot water, a king sized bed, hardwood floors, and a refrigerator that is taller than me. In the US, this is called a 'Starter Home.'
And finally, I'd like to change the world for the better. Eliminate all these useless fights and wars. End poverty and starvation. Make sure everything is fair and just, do away with Capitalism because that's the pits. And put a muzzle on Sarah Palin.

Song of the Day

2011-01-13T14:06:00.004Z

I've been listening to this song now for weeks and weeks. It's been stuck in my head for ages, but I don't mind. It's a good song with great lyrics.

Specifically the lyrics, 'Send lawyers, guns, and money. Dad, get me out of this.' Mostly because it makes me think of my Dad and how we all lean on him pretty much all the time. And he's cool about it.

So, Dad, I love you. Just in case you forgot about your 2nd favorite daughter.

The Driving Pro

2011-01-10T09:59:00.006Z

Someone recently asked me, 'Why are you the John McEnroe of driving?' To which I responded, 'Oh, because I yell at people a lot.'

Well, they deserve to be yelled at when they drive like idiots.

The description was bestowed upon me by my darling husband, the SJC, after a weekend of driving around Boston and the Boston area. In my defense, most of the bonehead drivers are in that area. Also, New Jersey. This I know from a road trip from Natick to Gainesville one May. And Virginia, don't think you went unnoticed, either.

It's great being able to sit upon my throne of golden cars and pass judgment down on all the little people who are terrible at driving. What makes me the queen? I've been driving for a long time.

When I was 8, my Mom and Dad used to let me take the station wagon for a spin around the corner. We lived in a small town then, and 'around the corner' was literally around one corner. Our house was on a corner lot and the driveway was Y-shaped. You go out one side of the y and back around into the other.

On occasion, Dad would let us drive him to the supermarket when I was 13 and 14. I was tall for my age, and again, small town, not a lot of cops. Though one time we drove right by one and he just thought I was my older sister.

When I was 15, I was late for basketball practice. We were back in a bigger town by then. My parent's weren't home, but the keys to the mini-van were. I drove myself to practice. Some key elements in this outing are as follows: I was on the basketball team and therefore tall. Also, I had previous experience driving so I knew what to do. A lot of my teammates thought I was going to get into serious trouble, and when my parents showed up, the gym was flooded with the 'ooooooooh!' sound that is so popular with teenagers, especially when one is about to get in trouble.

But did I get in trouble? No. Instead, I was commended for being so responsible. In your face, teammates.

I got my permit the day after I turned 16 and my license roughly 6 months later. It was more 8 months because I went to summer school for driver's ed. Those were the days. The glorious days of driving down 128 with Mr. Thibault in the passenger seat, telling me to pull into Wendy's because he wanted a diet coke. Or directing me to the floral shop so he could pick up some flowers for his wife. Once I got my license, I never looked back.

I've been Queen of the Road ever since.

I got my first speeding ticket when I was in college. I was doing 65 in a 40, but in my defense, I was trying to pass a real asshole who was going too slow. This was in Maine, so this first ticket gets chalked up to racial profiling. I was, after all, driving a car with Massachusetts plates.

My second speeding ticket was a doozie. I was on 128 as it merges into 95 on my way to Maine, trying to pass two clowntowns on motorcycles with New Hampshire plates (riding side by side - illegal!) when I got pulled over, embarrassingly, by a motorcycle cop who waved me over to the side of the road. I wasn't too distracted by my verbal tirade on the two jerkstores, I didn't miss the gesture. I pulled over out of respect.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked.
"Yes. I was speeding." I replied. (If I've learned anything, it's that honesty is the best policy.)
Boom. A $295 fine. In hindsight, he was a real prick.

I've only been pulled over three times. The third time was in Boston after I apparently ran a red light. It looked yellow to me. The officer who pulled me over told me that it was late and his shift was over, so have a good night. Done and done.

I don't claim to be perfect. I just claim to be a better driver than everyone else. And anyone who disagrees will hear about it, in a few select words and biting phrases. A la John McEnroe. And I will probably throw a tennis racket at you if you don't get the hell out of my way.

First Post of 2011

2011-01-06T15:11:00.004Z

And it only took me 6 days to get here.

Well they're predicting more snow. No me gusta. It's been cold here, but at least today wasn't windy. And I took the LUAS today and sat near some delightful crack addicts. That's what happens on public transportation! If I could only get my hands on a jetpack, I'd be all set.
I met Kim for lunch at Boojum where she was kind enough to treat me to a burrito in honor of my 31st birthday. The burrito was delicious and the company was exceptional. Afterwards I dragged her to Marks and Spencer to check out a mattress pad and we had a few good laughs over a particularly limited collection of theirs. As a side note, if anyone wears a size 10, there are a shitload of black sweaters on sale at M&S. If anyone wears a size other than 10, well, you're out of luck.
This is going to shock some people. I'm a little bit sick of 'The Gilmore Girls.' I suppose after you've seen each episode 7 or 9 times, you're over it. However, a more terrible show is 'Friends.' Why is it on six thousand times a day? Thank God most TVs come with an off button.
There's a rumor that the SJC is bringing back some Lucky Charms tonight. Apparently a co-worker got a box of goodies from the USA and didn't want the Lucky Charms. First of all, who doesn't want Lucky Charms? And second of all, pass them along to me.
Oh yeah, New Year's Resolutions. I resolve to get some more sleep this year, and to bask in the glory of the sun when it does shine. Two things would help this resolution: A month long vacation to the Maldives and/or a climate controlled room with sunlamps. Neither are feasible at this time, but a girl can dream.

2010

2010-12-31T13:49:00.004Z

The year that was.

2010 had some ups and downs, but mostly ups.

I went home a lot this year, which was awesome. I'm very fortunate to have been able to plan and execute so many trips home. I don't know if you knew this, but I'm very close to my family. I think they're pretty great people and enjoy spending time with them. On the flip side, my in-laws are also pretty great people, so I feel lucky all around.

In January, we took a weekend trip to LA. As you do. It was nice to get out of the apartment for a weekend and nice to see some of the sunshine and the huge LAX letters outside the airport. It was also nice to have a delicious quesadilla and wash it down with some Blue Moon.

In February, a doctor prescribed me to join a basketball team. I have yet to fill this prescription.

In March, the SJC and I flew into Orlando airport and traveled to Savannah, Georgia for St. Patrick's Day. We were delightfully underwhelmed with the festivities but fell in love with Savannah. We also took a day trip to Charleston, SC. On our drive back to Orlando, we stayed a night in St. Augustine, Florida. Incidentally, I've been dreaming of St. Augustine ever since. That was an awesome trip.

In April, I went home for the Boston Marathon. People don't understand why we Massachusetts folk love the Marathon so much, but it's a staple in our yearly lives. I also got to spend time with the littlest niece, Beans, and wholeheartedly enjoyed every minute of it.

In May, I dreamed of Mega-Bed. I also went to Turkey for a marriage of East vs West. A British groom married a Kazakhstan bride. I got to step in the Mediterranean an added that to the ever-growing list of Oceans I've been in.

I went home again in June, at the end of June, for Beans's birthday and stayed home until the second week of July. In July, we experienced the most oppressive way to survive a heat wave. No air conditioning? No thank you. Mom flew back to Dublin with me in July and stayed until August.

In September, I went home again for my Gramma's 90th birthday party. It was a hit. My Gramma rules.

My year shifted in October and all the fun and excitement seemed to die down, but for a very good reason. I got to go home again for Thanksgiving, which was fabulous and at my sister's house. I cried on the flight back to Dublin but didn't bawl because the knowledge that I'd soon be (hopefully!) moving back to the US was in the back of my mind.

And this was a December to remember. Not much happened this month, besides my 31st birthday and the greatest Lizmas to date. We survived Snowpocalypse 2010, barely. I think parts of Dublin are still struggling with burst pipes. I'm still in Sligo and will be here until next year (Ha - Monday is next year!) which is a superb way to ring out 2010.

I hope you all had a fabulous year. So, so much more has happened to me in 2010 than I'm willing to admit, but it's all for me to know and for you to find out.

Happy New Year to you and yours!

A Successful Lizmas

2010-12-28T11:55:00.003Z

In case you were wondering, I really cleaned up this year at Lizmas. One could argue that it was the greatest Lizmas of all time, except for the missing ingredients that look an awful lot like my Mom, Dad, sisters, brother, brother-in-law, and beloved niece.

I had a wonderful Lizmas in Sligo at the SJC's house. He was worried that I'd have a miserable time since a) I hate Christmas the most and b) I'm 3,000 miles away from my family, but misery wasn't on the agenda. And it was a fabulous day.

I got some moccasins, a new Orla Kiely bag, lovely smelling lotions, several Carl Hiaasen books (score!) and a new lens for my camera. Yeah - talk about a huge windfall of awesomeness!

But that was 3 days ago (in Denmark, Christmas was 4 days ago, just so you know.) And boy have things changed. Well, the only thing that has changed is the sound of my voice and my sinus cavities.

I am completely miserable, San Diego. I was in good health on Lizmas, but the second day of my 31st year brought on a massive head cold that I am going to have to suffer through. Normally, I wouldn't complain (okay, I would) but I feel badly going around coughing, sneezing, and having gorgeous snots drip from my nose in front of the whole family. The SJC's siblings are here, as are some spouses, and a few children. Looking at me like I'm a leper. It's not a skin disease! It's just a cold! And I get one every year at this time. A true Christmas miracle!

So I've got some toilet paper stashed up my sleeve, as you do. I'm not wearing makeup because my watery, watering eyes would just rinse it all off, and I've become so good at the Vampire Cough (you know, where you cough into your elbow) that I've decided to wear my black sweater to give a real Dracula effect. It's working! Spooky, scary!

But every cloud has a silver lining. The snow has melted, and unlike SOME places I know about (ahem, Dublin) we have running water.

On that note, I hope you all had a fabulous Lizmas. And Happy New Year to you and yours!

Festivus. A Holiday For The Rest of Us.

2010-12-23T11:32:00.005Z

Happy Festivus to one and all.

It's snowing today - a Festivus Miracle! And when it stops, that will be another Festivus Miracle! And if we can get on the train to Sligo without delays, that will be the trifecta. A day full of Miracles!

Those familiar with Festivus know that the day is full of events such as the Airing of the Grievances and the Feats of Strength.

The Feats of Strength will take place this afternoon when I lug my 30lb suitcase over the unsalted, icy sidewalks of Dublin to the train station. I shall emerge victorious from these Feats of Strengths based on sheer power and determination. The day is mine.

Now, on to the Airing of the Grievances.

I've got a lot of problems with you people! No, not you, readers, you guys are alright in my book. Partially with the Dublin City Council for being so negligent with the sidewalks and roads during this Snowpocalypse. Partially to the Meteorologists for getting the weather so horribly wrong most of the time. And mostly with Mother Nature, for being such a heinous bitch. Fix that jet stream, milady!

A huge Grievance is dedicated to the hot water heater aka the immersion. I've got a lot of problems with you, hot water heater! First, you hardly work. Second, 10 minutes of hot water? What is this, the third world?? And finally, don't you know it's cold out? Stay hot, dammit!

My other Grievances are minor. Things like the fact that Fallon & Byrne didn't have Fluff. What am I supposed to put on my peanut butter sandwiches now? Jelly? Ha!

I hope you all have a fabulous Festivus and a very Merry Lizmas. My gift to you all is, of course, a donation to The Human Fund: Money for People.

Merry Lizmas to all!

Last Minute Luck

2010-12-20T20:13:00.004Z

Because I usually wait until the last minute to do pretty much everything, I went Lizmas shopping today. I walked in and out of stores, uninspired and talking myself out of everything.

(Side note: Orla Kiely, quit adding brown to your designs. I'm sick of it.)

I saw one million things I could buy for other people, but nothing I wanted. And I was shopping for myself.

Why? It's a long story and involves the trans-Atlantic shipping, particularly avoiding trans-Atlantic shipping, so I figured I'd buy stuff for me here and say it is from other people. They agreed.

I met up with Kim and new friend Sara (who bears a striking resemblance to my old friend Jordan, who is a lady,)for burritos. Then I peer pressured them into going shopping with me. I'm sure they were actually living their own personal version of hell, but they were good sports about it, even when I walked in and out of several different jewelry stores because I didn't care for anything.

I had given up home. Resigned myself that this Lizmas, I'd be getting a high five and/or something in January or February. Or March, April, May, June, or July. Maybe even August. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Then Kim suggested The Designyard and, well, jackpot. That place is awesome. It's a jewelry and art store that specializes in designers from across Europe. I found a pair of earrings that I immediately fell in love with. And promptly purchased them as a gift to me from the SJC. He has such great taste in jewelry.

And then I walked home and made it about 1/3 of the way before I really wanted to fall asleep on the pavement. The snowy-snowy pavement. Also, it's still snowing. I'll probably move to Florida for my 32nd birthday.

The Second Snowman of the Snowpocalypse

2010-12-17T14:49:00.002Z

The first Snowman of the Snowpocalypse has come and gone. There is no sign of snow from where I sit, but we live close to the Irish Sea and, well, the ocean effect.

Tonight the second Snowman of the Snowpocalypse is supposed to descend upon us. It's already hit Sligo and Mayo and pretty much rolled over Northern Ireland. I hope it skips over Dublin (ocean effect!) because there's not enough salt. So they won't be salting the roads or gritting the sidewalks. In short, it's going to look like the Ice Capades at Amateur Hour when you're out and about this weekend.

Not that I mind, really. You see, I grew up in New England. We're hearty stock. It snows like hell in the winter and the summer temperatures can reach insufferable highs. Like being 100 degrees for two straight weeks with no relief in sight, not even an air conditioner, because you're staying down the Cape where the ocean breeze usually cools things down. To make a long story short, I know about the snow. I know how to walk around in it, I know how to clear it off, and more importantly, I know that it sucks out loud.

So bring it on this weekend, snow. Do your worst. You still cannot defeat me. And since I don't have a car, it looks like I'll be winning this battle!

Hopefully the third Snowman of the Snowpocalypse never shows his face, otherwise, Russia wins at weather.

A Joint Venture

2010-12-13T11:37:00.003Z

Yesterday, I was regaling my dream from Saturday night to the SJC. Yeah, I know, dreams are boring. He was a good sport. It involved staying at a new casino in Las Vegas called The Dive and probably roller skates.

A casino named The Dive doesn't exist. We decided we should open one. And the ideas kept flowing. The bar area would be called The Hive. And the SJC came up with this show stopping number: We'd have entertainment. It'd be called The Clive (Owen Look-Alike Experience.)

Next stop: Billionaire status!

Not My Best Argument

2010-12-07T11:16:00.003Z

This morning, I woke up around 6am, because apparently that's how my jetlag works. As soon as I move into the future (GMT,) I wake up at 1am in my body. It makes perfect sense, in a bizarro world kind of way.

Last night the SJC lost a button from his coat. Well, he lost it in the hallway of the apartment, so it was easy to find. At 6am I decided to sew it back on his coat. Thank you, Home Economics class from 8th grade!

Around 7:30 he woke up and I decided to try and convince him that he should call in sick from work today. For the selfish reason that I wanted to hang out with him, I tried various suggestions. Like we could hold hands and watch Harry Potter (no dice,) or we could go to lunch at Herbstreet and caress each other's faces like they did in the 1950s (would you believe that one didn't work either?)

Then he headed to the shower and I looked at the calendar. Today is December 7th. It's Pearl Harbor Day. I used my best debate club argument, informing him of the importance of today's date. I even reminded him that he works for a Japanese company and his wife is American. I may have lied a little bit when telling him that the only reason he has a job now is because we Americans helped rebuild Japan after WW2. It was pure propaganda. He didn't buy it.

In hindsight, I should have just changed all the clocks so he slept through the day, and then informed him at 3 o'clock this afternoon that it was really 11am and whoops, he's missed work. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow.

A Sunday Evening

2010-12-06T15:55:00.002Z

I flew back to Dublin last night, via Aer Lingus. Before I go any further, let me just announce how glad I am that I have completed my last Aer Lingus BOS to DUB flight until at least August, maybe longer.

My Dad drove me to the airport and I was hell bent on being upgraded. All previous airlines have either looked for empty seats with a wink and then a frowny face because there were none, or said I could upgrade for $400 or more. I was figuring I could use my Aer Lingus miles (don't get me started on their hot mess of a frequent flyer program - set up for people to fail,) and pay the difference. I know I have close to enough miles and I had some cash. Turns out I was 200 miles short and if I wanted to pay the difference, sorry, they don't do that. But I could pay $2,000 to upgrade. To business class. On Aer Lingus. For a 5 1/2 hour flight. Because that makes good financial sense and is worth it.

No x-ray machines, no pat down, want to know why? Nobody was there to do the pat downs and the x-ray machines were turned off. Let this be a lesson. To avoid the dreaded invasion of privacy, fly on Sunday evenings! Internationally!

The flight was as expected. Uncomfortable, long, uncomfortable, and the a-hole in front of me reclined all the way. I politely tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to move her seat up, and she did, so she wasn't all that bad. The flight left a few minutes late and landed after New York (those jerks!) so we were second priority instead of #1, which is what we usually are because we usually get there at 4:45am and not 5:30am which was this morning.

And then there was a technical problem with the baggage claim. At this point, I was just ready to walk out and into the open arms of the SJC, who was there at the crack of dawn, waiting for me, and, well, I love him. You know how it is. Eventually the bags came, I made it out, we got in a cab, who took us for quite a loopy ride around Dublin and chatted our ears off about the snow and his many homes all across the world (meanwhile driving a 2001 Toyota Tercel...)

Finally we made it back to the apartment. I opened up my suitcase and noticed things weren't where I thought they were. You can probably figure this one out. The TSA had a nice rifle through my luggage. They probably stole some granola bars (jerks!) and definitely were suspicious of the bag of presents my Mom sent over with me (thanks, Mom!) and now I have to clean all my underwear. Just another glorious travel story!

It was about 2am in my body when I finally went to sleep. And that was my Sunday evening.

TCOB Thursday

2010-12-02T15:57:00.003Z

TCOB means Taking Care of Business. And that is precisely what I did today.

First, I woke up at 7:30, on my own accord. Perhaps jetlag isn't bothering me that much because I go to bed by 10 pm? Either way, score one for Liz in the sleep department! Because sleep is the goodest.

Anyway, one of the things on my Agenda for Home was to get my license renewed. It expires on December 25th, 2010, which, you know, is convenient, since the RMV is open on Christmas day and all (no, it is not.) But I'm a forward looking thinker (to some extent) and decided that TODAY was the day to renew my license.

We've all been to the RMV. It's hell on Earth. Comedians don't have bits about it for nothing. The last time I renewed my license it took something like 2 hours. This time I was prepared. I brought provisions. I got there at 9:15 am with a sandwich, granola bars, and a bottle of water packed in my pocketbook. I also had some reading material and my iPod to pass the time.

I thought I was in the wrong place. There was nobody in there but a handful of people behind the counter. I told the lady at the RMV reception area that I was here for a license renewal and that I had filled out the application online. She told me to take a number. I took a number. It was B201. As soon as I finished reading it, a voice came over the intercom, 'Now serving number B201.' Amazing. I didn't jump up and run to the counter like I was the next contestant on The Price is Right but I wanted to, and it's the thought that counts.

I was in and out with a renewed license in 5 minutes. That's what I call service.

Well done to you today, Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles on the Mass Pike in Natick. You made my day that much better for being so awesome. I look forward to doing business with you again in another 5 years when this one is about to expire. Or before then, when I get some license plates.

And that, other RMVs in the world, is how you Take Care of Business in a Flash.

How's the Weather?

2010-11-29T17:30:00.003Z

As I type this, it's in the mid 40s (Fahrenheit) where I'm sitting and below freezing and snowing in Dublin.

I'm trying very hard not to gloat because I know it'll only come back to haunt me. But snow? In Dublin? In November?? Unheard of.

Meanwhile, I'm a little bit glad I'm not there, because my snow boots are here. I suppose I'll be wearing them back over when I head back in a week.

The SJC and his sister, the SEC, were here from Friday - Sunday for the most wonderful holiday of the year, Thanksgiving. I hope they enjoyed their time. We went to Ye Olde Sturbridge, Massachusetts to celebrate the big day. The day was filled with stories, an entertaining niece, and various cocktails that I did not partake in for various reasons, the least of which being I was the designated driver.

Friday we went into the Museum of Science. First of all, that place rules. Science is awesome. And secondly, we went to the Omni Theater and watched a movie called 'Whales.' Guess who got seasick and spent most of the movie with her eyes closed? That's right, I did. Because apparently seasickness isn't limited to, oh I don't know, being on the sea. Had I realized this, I would have taken some Dramamine, but those familiar with that particular medicine would probably agree that instead of helping the seasickness, it would have helped me fall right to sleep.

Saturday was breakfast at Gourmet Delights and then off to hit the stores. We were warned time and time again that the stores would be crazy and the crowds would be nuts and to work on elbowing people out of the way. This is not what we experienced. We didn't run into many crowds (except for the Apple store, but that's mostly because people were probably checking their email), and we did run in to some awesome deals. Especially at Target.

All in all, it was a delightful visit. I hope they come back next year for more Thanksgiving festivities. And I hope their Danish counterparts can come too.

Thanksgiving - the greatest day of all time. I'm thankful for pretty much everything life has thrown at me lately, but mostly I'm thankful that it's not snowing in Metropolis.

Time to Stop and Shop

2010-11-22T16:18:00.003Z

Today I went to Stop and Shop, a Massachusetts grocery store.

They now have cup holders on the grocery carriages. This perplexed yet amazed me. The store is enormous. I bought ranch dressing. And the plastic bags were free, but of terrible quality. The store is about a mile away from my parent's house, so I drove there. This enabled me to get two gallons of milk and a 12 pack of Coca-Cola, because Coca-Cola has electrolytes in it. Yahtzee!

But - grocery carriages with cup holders. I think we're on to a winner here!

The Haps

2010-11-18T18:25:00.003Z

Well I'm back in Metropolis, have been since Tuesday. Yesterday was my Dad's birthday (part of the reason I came home this week) and next week is Thanksgiving (the other part of why I came home.) I've been here for about 48 hours and have seen my Gramma, two Uncles, an Aunt, and spoken on the phone to another Aunt. We're a tight knit family.

Tomorrow I go to visit my sister and my niece. These are good days.

Less importantly, I've been catching up on movies since my parents have Starz and Showtime. Obviously they feel HBO is for the weak. I accept these terms because Starz has some stellar (see what I did there?) movies on this month and I've already watched 'Alice in Wonderland' and am in the middle of 'Julie & Julie' which is actually bothering me because it sucks so badly. Meryl, you can do no wrong, but Julia Child must have been annoying to imitate. Perhaps I'll watch 'Death Becomes Her' to wash out the bad taste from this flop of a film.

It's good to be home. I've had a couple of excellent days and a couple of excellent sleeps. The only thing missing is the SJC. He'll be here in 6 days.

Tag, I'm it.

2010-11-15T20:00:00.003Z

I've been tagged by Suze over at The Vegemite Wife to take part in a tag post and answer a few random questions. This works for me because I never have anything to write about anyway.

Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you. Check.
2. Paste these rules on your blog post. Roger that.
3. Respond to the following prompts (in bold). Okay, will do.
4. Add a prompt of your own and answer it. Very demanding stuff, but I added #10.
5. Tag a few other bloggers at the bottom of the post. Easy.
6. Leave "Tagged You" notices on their blog/Facebook. I probably won't do this.
7. Let the person who tagged you know when you've written the post. Or this. I have faith that it will all work out amazingly.
------------------------------------------------------------
1) The best investment you ever made:
One round trip ticked from Boston to Dublin for September 11th, 2007, returning in November of the same year.

2) If you could’ve written any book, directed any movie, and composed any song, which three would you pick:
Book: Pride & Prejudice, with some street lingo and I would have made it a romance.
Movie: "The Big Lebowski". White Russians for all.
Song: "Your Time is Gonna Come" by Led Zeppelin for no other reason than it applies to pretty much everyone in one way or another.

3) Weirdest quirk:
I chew two pieces of gum at a time and really don't like to share just one piece because this throws off the whole balance of a 14 piece pack.

4) One wish immediately granted:
The power of teleportation for me and me alone.

5) Most expensive hobby:
Definitely travel, though we've been doing it less and less for various reasons.

6) An inexhaustible gift-card at which store:
Target. I would bleed that place dry.

7) In another lifetime, you’d be:
A member of the Hell's Angels. I would have my motorcycle license by now.

8) The most famous/interesting member of your family tree:
Ned Mahan, my Gramma's uncle. Played football for Harvard and was a legend in his own right.

9) What would you say to your teenage self?
Stick with running. You may not have been the best, but Goddamnit, you liked it and it looked good on you. Also be careful not to over-pluck your eyebrows when you're 17.

10) What do you want to be when you grow up?
Independently wealthy.

I'm tagging: Katie, Moe, KD, Pam, Meg.

Lost (Again): My Blogging Mojo

2010-11-11T14:32:00.002Z

If found, please return immediately.

November seems like kind of a bust. Reminiscent of October in a way. Two complete busts of months. This is because I haven't felt like myself for various reasons, though today I did see a rainbow, which was nice.

Yesterday I ventured out to Dalkey to visit KD, Kim, and one of KD's friends for some soup and quiche. I had a lovely time. Last night we met up with the in-laws for dinner at ely gastro pub. It's all lowercase, don't worry, it's supposed to be. But, yesterday was a good day.

And now today it's windy and stupid.

SEE WHAT I MEAN? THE MOJO IS GONE. THE MAGIC IS LOST. WHO GIVES A CRAP ABOUT THE WEATHER?

In other, more awesome news, I'm going home in 5 days for approximately 3 weeks. Shove that in your back pocket, life! Winner!

I may be turning a corner, in which case, I expect to find my mojo waiting for me at Logan Airport dressed as a small Dunkin Donuts hazelnut, extra light with milk and one sugar.

I'll Miss It

2010-11-08T20:48:00.002Z

Sure we're probably not moving back to the US until August, 2011, but already I've started to miss things from living in Ireland.

Most notably: The lack of commercials on TV. Sure there are still ads, but they don't last nearly as long as the ad breaks in the US. It makes TV watching less obnoxious, and since that seems to consume my time these days (sorry, Mom), it's a welcome change.

I'll also miss the mild weather, which, is pretty rich of me to say right now. It's been blustery and cold the past few days, lashing rain and being, in general, kind of a jerkwad outside, weather-wise. Things are not normally like this. I do appreciate the lack of snow. I hate snow. A lot.

I'm also going to miss the close proximity to the SJC's parents. We were there this weekend visiting and it's like we're the King and Queen when we go to stay. How could you not love that? Plus, it's so quiet and peaceful, and absolutely beautiful. I'm really going to miss it.

I won't, however, miss the 7:05pm Sligo to Dublin train on Monday nights. You got new trains for a reason, Iarnrod Eireann, please use them.

Still Rocking

2010-11-03T15:49:00.002Z

Last night the SJC and I went to see the Doobie Brothers at Grand Canal Theatre. It's very close to our digs so, even in the lashing rain it was going to be a win-win situation. Except that yesterday's non-stop rain had actually stopped by the time we were heading out to go to the show.

In 1997, I heard 'Black Water' on WZLX, Boston's classic rock station and was all, 'HOLY MOSES THIS SONG IS GREAT. WHAT!' My Uncle John loaned me his Doobie Brothers album and, as of today, I still have it. Thanks, UJ. I'll buy you a new one for Lizmas. The Doobie Brothers are one of those bands where you know all the songs you just don't know it's the Doobie Brothers.

So the SJC and I roll up to the Theatre, with no doobies as per my Mom's request, and find out we've been upgraded again. This seems to be happening a lot lately, but I like it. The opening act was Lara Johnston, a little bit of nepotism there, since she's the daughter of Tom Johnston, a guitarist and vocalist for the Doobie Bros. My Mom taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. Sorry, Lara.

Once the Doobie Brothers got on stage, things got interesting. Their second song was 'Jesus is Just Alright', which naturally made me feel like jumping up and dancing. So I danced. And I was sober. This pretty much continued throughout the entire set, except for one point when they were playing the blues and I noticed a security guard trying to get the attention of a particularly energetic older lady down on the floor level, so that took up some of my attention.

I was rocked back to reality by 'Black Water,' a song that me and one other guy apparently knew about, since we were the only ones really singing along and clapping and dancing. They closed out with an encore (who saw that coming!) and finished the night with 'Listen To The Music,' which had everyone singing along.

It was a great show. They clearly loved playing on stage and were doing it for the love of the music, not the love of the almighty dollar. You can always tell. I loved it. And in case you were wondering what else the Doobie Brothers sing, here's a quick sample:

I love Classic Rock. No other music can compare is because it truly was the greatest era of music. Ever. Too bad I was born in 1979, I would have had a hell of a time in the 60s and 70s. Actually, it may have been for the best that I was born in 1979.

Great show, fellas. Come back soon!

But Only Because You Asked Nicely...

2010-11-01T15:41:00.002Z

In an email to my mother:

Tomorrow night, The SJC and I are going to the Doobie Brothers at the Grand Canal Theatre. It'll be interesting.
Enjoy the computer lab!

Her response:

Just don’t bring a doobie with you!!

__________________

Okay, Mom. I won't. But only because you asked so nicely.